


Hope and Good Intentions

by potentiality_26



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Casual Sex, Demon Eggsy, Falling In Love, M/M, Soul Selling, Supernatural Elements, Tailor Harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 02:47:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 33,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8693419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/potentiality_26/pseuds/potentiality_26
Summary: "Hope ain't ever foolish," Eggsy said.

The seriousness in his expression as he said it made him look old.  It made him look like something else- and Harry wondered why exactly hope was so important to him.  Perhaps, Harry thought, it wasn’t good intentions that the road to hell was paved with but hope.  After all, hope was why Harry was here, clinging desperately to the notion that he might not have to play the terrible hand he had been dealt after all.  That a miracle- or in this case something significantly less holy- would come along and make everything all right.  Harry knew perfectly well that the world didn’t work like that.

  Except maybe it did, because Eggsy’s lips pulled up into a now-familiar smirk and he said, “I’m gonna fix all this up nice for you, Harry.  You'll see.”

Harry Hart just sold his soul to a demon in a snapback.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally intended this to be a medium-length fic for Halloween, but boy did it just keep getting bigger. I was really hoping to post it all in one piece, but it ended up being too much for me, so I have to break it up. The second half should be up tomorrow, so check back then if you'd rather read it all at once. Written as an H/C bingo cross-square extra for "wild card" (deals with demons) and "tyranny/rebellion". Additional warnings for a scene with smoking. 
> 
> Not Brit-picked.

Harry had spent most of the previous night in a club. 

He couldn’t remember who exactly recommended it to him.  In fact, he couldn’t remember much about that night at all.  That had rather been the point of the exercise: to forget.  

The music had been loud but the scotch had been good, Harry remembered that.  He remembered that the club’s owner- a man with a lisp and a regrettable outfit- had been making the rounds when he arrived, and he remembered that there was something... indefinably _wrong_ about him.   

Actually, there had been something wrong about _everything_ in that club.  About the lights, the dancers, the writhing shadows they cast on the walls.  About the smell of the place- sweaty and smoky with a touch of... was it rotten eggs?  About the way Harry had wanted to leave from the moment he sat down at the bar, but for some reason his body just wouldn’t cooperate.  After one more scotch (or was that three or four more?  It all ran together in Harry's mind) none of that had mattered to him.   

That too had been the point of the exercise.

"Drowning your sorrows?"

That was what the bartender had said.  Harry did remember her, a little.  Her legs had been sharp blades and her smile had been sharper still.  Harry had thought there was very little warm, or comforting, or trustworthy about her- and yet one question from her had still sent his whole life story spilling out of him.  “My family owns a tailor’s shop, one of the finest in the city,” Harry told her- or, rather, told the bottom of his glass with her as an interested and vaguely menacing bystander.  “I was overseas for years.”   

“Military man?”  Her prosthetic limbs clicked on the floor, and Harry wondered if she was a military woman- but he would no more have asked a personal question of her than of an interrogator who had him strapped to a chair. 

"Among other things.  When I came back, my uncle had more or less run the business to the ground.  It’s all I have left of my parents, but I’m going to have to sell it- and soon.  I’m only here now because someone told me I could drink on a tab.”  Harry's thoughts were thicker than he believed the drinks he’d had warranted, thicker than syrup.  Way in the back of his mind- in the gummiest, hardest to reach corner of it- he found it intensely disturbing that he still couldn’t remember who that someone had been.

“You can do more than that here,” the bartender said, flashing that exceedingly sharp smile of hers once more.  "See, I know a guy who can help you."

"I would be pleased to meet him," Harry replied, not at all believing that such a man existed.  “I would sell my soul to fix this.”

Her smile went impossibly wide.  “That's exactly what I was hoping you’d say.”

That was the last thing Harry could properly remember about what happened in the club, and it was very important to Harry that he remember- because he had woken up in jail. 

He had a splitting headache and a bad taste in his mouth- worse than any hangover he could remember, which was saying something.  He sat on the grimy floor of the holding cell with his elbows on his knees and stared at the opposite wall, straining to recall how exactly he had ended up there.  The club, the scotch, the bartender, something about selling his soul...

Harry frowned.  He wasn't sure he believed in souls, at least not in the Faustian sense.  Those didn't even sound like words he would think to say- as if something _else_ had taken hold of his tongue. 

Harry snorted.  Of course something had taken hold of his tongue.  It was called liquor.

After the bit about selling his soul, everything got fuzzy in Harry’s memory- well, fuzz _ier_ , since his memories of the club itself were already so muddled- and he had no idea what he had done to end up here.  Harry hadn’t woken up in a holding cell since his wild youth.  And he hadn't blacked out like that since-

 _No_.  Harry knocked his head against the wall.  He wasn't going to think about that; this latest mess was more than enough to concern himself with, thank you. 

But before Harry could do anything about the aforementioned mess- before he could even think of something _to_ do- a guard appeared and told him he was free to go.  Apparently, it had all been a misunderstanding. 

Harry didn't completely believe that, but he nodded all the same.  "Thank you." 

He rose as smoothly as he could, straightened his suit, and walked out of the police station with his head still swimming.  He decided- as the pale light of the sun pierced his eyes- that he would go back to his shop.  He would face his future with dignity and not do anything like this again- at least not until the unfairness of his fate slammed into him like a bullet train, or a bullet, once again.  Then Harry supposed he would forget all his promises and get plastered.  Slowly, so as not to further aggravate his headache, Harry jogged down the outer stairs. 

"Hello, Harry," someone said. 

That brought Harry up short.  He didn't recognize the voice, so he frowned and turned in its direction.  He saw a young man- a boy, really, Harry wouldn't have guessed he could be more than twenty- leaning against the wall behind him.  The boy was wearing a snapback, jeans, and a light jacket over a rather ugly striped shirt.  Harry eyed him uncertainly.  “Forgive me- do I know you?”

The boy’s lips curved upward.  “Name’s Eggsy,” he said.  “I’m the one who got you released.” 

"I'm grateful," Harry said, instinctively polite even though he doubted this young man had done him that favor out of the goodness of his heart.  Perhaps it was how little he could remember of the night before- _I would sell my soul to fix this_ \- that had left Harry so jumpy, but he only barely suppressed a shudder.  “But _why_?”

“’Cos we got business, you and me.”

"Business," Harry repeated.  The shudder was harder to suppress that time.  Something about the way the boy- Eggsy- said _business_ made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

Eggsy's look of amusement grew.  "C'mon.  Let's find someplace to talk." 

He jerked his chin down the street.  And just like that he was already moving, already walking away- as if he knew that Harry had no choice but to follow him. 

He was right, of course.  Harry trailed obediently along behind. 

Eggsy took Harry to a pub not far from the jail, and there Harry was forced to watch him order an enormous breakfast and tuck into it with gusto.  Harry himself ordered only a coffee, and he nursed it while watching Eggsy with a mixture of disgust and fascination.  Harry was distinctly queasy, but he caught himself thinking that under other circumstances he might have enjoyed watching Eggsy eat; he had an oddly beautiful mouth. 

Harry quashed that thought as firmly as he could, letting the hot coffee scald his tongue and sear down his throat.  “What business exactly are we here to discuss?”

Eggsy chewed and swallowed a bite of egg and sausage, so at least there was some politeness in him.  

Harry took another sip of his coffee and waited.  

Finally, Eggsy said, “You said you’d sell your soul, remember?  I’m here about that.”  He directed a sunny smile at Harry- and Harry could have sworn that his eyes glowed yellow. Probably it was the light.  

Harry wasn't sure he believed in the devil- who he assumed was supposed to be in play here- any more than he believed in souls.  He had been raised a Catholic, but had lost his faith at an early age.  Harry thought mankind was capable of good and evil, certainly- but as far as he was concerned no higher power needed apply.  That made what he said back at the club even more of a mystery to him. 

But he had said it, and now he was here.  "I don’t remember seeing you at the club.”

Eggsy looked like he had expected that.  "Well," he said.  He chewed and swallowed another bite of his breakfast, then pointed his fork at Harry.  “ _I_ remember seeing _you_.”

Harry supposed it was possible that Eggsy was the man the bartender had mentioned.  He decided to leave off contemplating the club for now; he felt sick- well, sick _er_ \- whenever he did.  He could get answers on the subject when he was feeling better.  "And you're meant to be a demon, are you?”  Harry wasn’t sure what to believe.  Perhaps he was still asleep in the police station and all this was a dream, or perhaps he had never been arrested to begin with and had simply gone home to sleep it off.  Perhaps not even the club had been real- that might explain why his perceptions of it were so fractured and strange, why what few memories he had of the place were slowly but surely slipping away from him now. 

“That’s right.”  Eggsy returned to his breakfast with renewed enthusiasm.

“Hmm," Harry said.  "And what sort of name for a demon is Eggsy?”

Eggsy’s expression darkened briefly.  “Name’s actually Gary,” he muttered, chasing a tomato around his plate.  “But nobody calls me that.”

Harry didn’t think Gary was a proper name for a demon either, but Eggsy suited the young man- or demon, if that was indeed what he was- as well as Harry supposed any name might.  He shrugged.  “Fair enough.”  Harry took another sip of his coffee and then set his cup aside.  “So.  Eggsy.  What sort of deal are we talking about here?  I offer you my soul and you just… snap your fingers and all my problems are magically sorted out?”

Eggsy's cat-got-the-canary grin returned in full force.  “Something like that.” 

In Harry’s experience, when a person said _something like that_ they typically meant something else entirely but had chosen not to admit it.  Everything Harry knew about demons and deals- gleaned primarily from films- suggested that this was especially true in their case.  “Like what _exactly_?”

Eggsy paused in the middle of a bite.

“As I understand it- and you may correct me if I’m wrong- anything I buy with my soul comes with a much heftier price tag down the line.”  Harry still wasn’t sure he believed in hell, but he could see that Eggsy- whether he was an actual demon or just a strange young person who somehow had the influence to get Harry released from jail no questions asked- did believe.  Why not play along?  Harry had little to lose if Eggsy was mistaken, and if he wasn't... well, if hell existed in the form the priests from Harry's childhood had always described he was probably headed there anyway.  “You can hardly blame me for wanting specifics.”

If Harry had hoped to set Eggsy off balance again, he'd failed.  Eggsy took several beats longer than necessary to take his fork out of his mouth, which drew Harry's attention helplessly to the curve of his lips.  He looked, if anything, fond.  Harry couldn't tell if he was being patronized.  "Yeah, all right," Eggsy said at last.  He pushed his plate aside.  "I'm ain't a genie or nothing." 

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I'm not gonna be able to just wave my hand and make good things happen.  But I can get you your family’s business back and flourishing.  It'll just... take a little time if you want it to work out.”

“I see,” Harry said, though he didn’t.  “You’re better than a genie.  You’ve got my best interests at heart.”

Eggsy either didn’t detect the sarcasm in his Harry’s voice or he elected to ignore it.  “Sure I do.  Your soul is the most valuable thing you’ve got- the most valuable thing anyone’s got.  I ain’t gonna trick you into throwing it away.”

"Really?"  From what Harry had heard- again, primarily from films- tricking humans into throwing their souls away was what demons _did_. 

"Really," Eggsy said, holding Harry's eyes. 

"All right," Harry said at last.  Eggsy lifted an eyebrow, so Harry put up his hands.  “I’m hung over and I haven’t believed in any of what you’re talking about since I was a boy.  Things I can’t explain happened last night, by which I mean I literally can’t explain them- but I still don't know what to think of all this.  Now maybe you’re a crazy person who picked a very odd way to do me a favor, or maybe you’re pulling some kind of bizarre con on me, or maybe you really are a demon.  Whichever it is, I wouldn’t be here now if I didn’t need… intervention, divine or otherwise, so I’m willing to give it a try.”

Eggsy's lips curled upward into another smirk.  "Yeah?"

“I don’t have terribly much to lose,” Harry said.  He drained the last of his coffee and set it back down on the table with a clink.  “Do I have to sign something in blood?”

*   *   *

Harry didn't have to sign anything in blood. 

Apparently Eggsy was a great believer in the gentleman's agreement.  He shook Harry's hand, and that was it.  Harry had to admit that something in the heat of Eggsy’s touch, and in the way his skin prickled and itched when Eggsy promised that all his problems would go away, made the whole _I actually just sold my soul_ thing seem likelier than ever. 

Harry could have sworn that he smelled sulfur on the air when Eggsy grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and said, “So let’s see this shop of yours, yeah?”

And the strange part was that- demon or not- something about Eggsy made Harry _want_ to show off the shop to him.  Kingsman Tailors may have seen better days since his uncle’s ownership, but Harry was still very proud of it.

Harry’s family had bought the shop after WWI.  Like his father and grandfather before him, Harry had changed as little about it as possible.  He believed that good architecture, like a good suit, never went out of style.  He wanted his customers to feel like they had walked into his shop and returned to a simpler time- at least sartorially speaking.  Harry didn’t glorify the old days in most respects- the fact that he was gay more or less assured it- but he liked the aesthetics of them immensely; if only insofar as fashion was concerned, Harry sometimes felt he had been born in the wrong time. 

He held the door open for Eggsy when they walked in.  Eggsy turned in a little circle around himself.  "It's nice," he said. 

“ _Nice_?” Harry repeated, offended.

Eggsy shrugged, eyes glittering.  "Well.  This ain't the kind of place you'd normally see _me_ in, is it?"

Harry's eyes flicked instinctively over Eggsy.  "No," he had to admit.  Eggsy didn't look _bad_ \- Harry still thought the shirt was ugly, but it worked on him, and there was an air of studied slobbishness about the outfit that was fashionable in certain circles- circles that indeed did not patronize tailor's shops. 

He fantasized, briefly, about fitting Eggsy for a suit.  A nice one, flashier than Harry would usually design, but right for Eggsy’s particular style.  Something to accentuate the oddly delicate lines of him, his slender shoulders and the plush curve of his behind.

Harry shook himself.  It was one thing to be distracted by Eggsy’s mouth while he was eating.  It was another entirely to entertain thoughts like that one.  Being attracted to Eggsy was _not_ part of the deal.

“Come along,” Harry said at last.  He led Eggsy upstairs to his office.   

Eggsy’s eyes slid over everything, taking it all in.  He was smarter than he appeared, most likely because he _wanted_ people to underestimate his intelligence, and he immediately said, “You been living here.”

Harry half nodded and half shrugged.  “I sold my house before I sold this place.”

He had been sleeping on the old couch in the corner for the last few weeks.  Attached to the office was a bathroom complete with a shower, which made it all reasonably civilized, and Harry kept the office military-tidy.  Still, he wasn’t surprised that he had still somehow left traces- people always did. 

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face.  “I suppose I knew it was foolish even as I did it.”  

"Hope ain't ever foolish," Eggsy said.

The seriousness in his expression as he said it made him look old. It made him look like something _else_ \- and Harry wondered why exactly hope was so important to him. Perhaps, Harry thought, it wasn’t good intentions that the road to hell was paved with but hope. After all, hope was why Harry was here, clinging desperately to the notion that he might not have to play the terrible hand he had been dealt after all. That a miracle- or in this case something significantly less holy- would come along and make everything all right. Harry knew perfectly well that the world didn’t work like that.

Except maybe it did, because Eggsy’s lips pulled up into a now-familiar smirk and he said, “I’m gonna fix all this up nice for you, Harry. You'll see.”

And Harry actually believed him. 

They spent most of the day looking through Kingsman's books and client lists.  Eggsy had a good head for figures- good enough that Harry supposed he could start telling people that Eggsy was his accountant if he stuck around long enough, not that anyone looking at Eggsy would believe it.  Perhaps if Harry made him that suit after all...

 _No._ He'd already had to tear his eyes away from the line of Eggsy's throat and the velvet darkness between his lips too many times that day- and the worst part was that Eggsy noticed.  He didn't say anything, but he smirked and Harry knew he had seen.  

“The problem,” Eggsy said, still smirking, “is that most of what went on while your uncle was in charge hasn't been taken down here at all.”

“No,” Harry huffed out.  “Of course not.  And it’s not as if we can ask him.”

Eggsy blinked.  “Why not?”

“The small matter of him being _dead_ ,” Harry snapped.  His mood had been getting progressively worse all day.  He couldn’t blame it completely on his headache or even on how inconveniently attractive Eggsy was.  This frustration had been bubbling on Harry’s back burner ever since he came back for his uncle's funeral and discovered that he was buried in another man's debts and about to lose the business he had dreamed of returning to for so long. 

Eggsy’s smile only broadened, bringing Harry up short.  “You forgot who you’re dealing with, didn’t you, bruv?” he said.  “Him being dead don’t make any difference to me.”

The hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickled again.  “No?”

“If he’d gone upstairs maybe there’d be nothing I could do,” Eggsy said.  “But _he_ definitely didn’t, if you know what I mean.”  

“I suppose I do.”  Harry wasn’t sure how to feel.  A whisper of vengeful pleasure rolled through him, but it was quick to fade.  His uncle had been a homophobic prick- a homophobic prick who had ruined everything besides- but he was still Harry's flesh and blood.  He was still the man who had taught Harry to hem trousers when he was just a boy, and though Harry supposed his uncle deserved a great many things he couldn't quite convince himself that eternal torment was one of them. 

Eggsy clapped his hands together, looking enormously pleased with himself.  “Let me tell you what,” he said.  “I’ll pop home and have a chat with your uncle while you take a little nap.  What d'you say?”

Harry couldn't decide whether that made him sound like a child or a pensioner.  He didn't like it either way, but... well, he was achy and groggy and- frankly- disturbed.  A nap didn't sound like such a bad idea, not that he wanted to admit it.  Harry's eyes snapped unintentionally over to the couch all the same- and when he looked back toward Eggsy again, he was gone. 

Harry stared stupidly at the place where Eggsy had been standing for several minutes. Was he _that_ fast?  Or could he appear and disappear as he pleased?  Either way it was another argument for Eggsy being an actual demon.  Arguments for any other explanation were thin on the ground- consisting largely of reason's stubborn- almost childish at this point- insistence that demons did not exist.    

With nothing else to do, Harry decided that a nap was as good an idea as any.  He lay down on the couch. 

Almost the moment his head hit the pillow, Harry was fast asleep. 

When he woke, Harry felt much better.  His headache was gone and any soreness that couldn't be attributed to being a man in his fifties who regularly slept on a couch had faded away.  He glanced at his clock and saw that he had been asleep for only an hour.  That hour seemed to have done him a world of good. 

Harry lay there on the couch for a few more moments, staring up at the ceiling.  He weighed the likelihood that the last day or so had been a dream brought on by stress and a biblical reference or two.  It struck him as unlikely- it was too vivid, and though Harry often had nightmares he rarely remembered them.  He didn't have to; he always knew what the dreams were about.

This... this was something very different. 

When Harry sat up and looked around, he had already half convinced himself that he couldn't have been dreaming.  What he saw took him the rest of the way.  

Eggsy had left detritus everywhere.  Here Harry saw his jacket on the coat tree.  There he saw Eggsy’s trainers, slipped off and abandoned.  And everywhere he saw the papers they had been going through together, scattered in a haphazard way Harry would never have permitted if he had been alone. 

Harry climbed off the couch and went in search of Eggsy.

At the end of the hall that connected Harry’s office to the other upstairs rooms there was a window.  Eggsy was leaning against the wall beside it.  He had it cracked open, letting in the cool autumn air.  He was smoking a cigarette, and for a few moments Harry just looked at him, at the picture he cut with his head canted back and one of his bare feet resting against the wall. 

“Nasty habit,” Harry said.

Eggsy startled, almost imperceptibly, and glanced around.  When he saw Harry, his mouth quirked into a faint smile. 

Harry crossed to him and put his hand out. 

“Sorry,” Eggsy said as he handed over the cigarette.  He didn’t look overly apologetic, but then Harry wasn’t sure how genuine contrition would look on a face like his.  Wrong, probably.  It would look wrong. 

Harry took a drag, smoke curling around his head. 

Eggsy’s mouth quirked higher.  “Nasty habit, huh?” he said.

Harry nodded seriously.  "I quit when I joined the military."  He had almost forgotten the smell, the feel of it in his throat and in his lungs.  Only a strong suspicion of how Eggsy would react if he coughed kept Harry from doing so.  He passed the cigarette back.

Eggsy looked from the burning tip to Harry's face, eyes sparking with curiosity.  "Military, huh?"

Harry nodded.  He leaned against the wall opposite Eggsy, his shoulder tucked into the corner.  “How was your trip?”

Eggsy’s face contorted briefly, and Harry got the sense that Eggsy didn’t much like going home.  Since home was apparently hell, Harry supposed he couldn’t blame him.  He wondered if it was like in the stories, all fire and screaming.  Then he wondered if it counted as another argument in favor of Eggsy being a demon- that for a second he looked like he really had gotten a glimpse of interminable suffering?

“You needn't tell me any specifics,” Harry said, without having planned to say anything of the sort. 

Eggsy nodded jerkily.  “I know what happened with your uncle,” he said.

“And you can… fix it?”

Eggsy nodded again.  “Yeah.”  He took another drag, his lips right over where Harry's had been.  "Yeah, I can."

*   *   *

“You know, if you’d tell me a bit more about what you- well, _we_ \- are doing, I might be able to help.” 

Harry mentioned this the following morning.  Eggsy had vanished at around sunset the night before, and Harry had returned to his couch for a more peaceful night’s sleep than a man who had maybe- probably- just sold his soul likely deserved.  Eggsy had returned at daybreak and roused him, pushing a cup of hot coffee into his hands.  Once Harry was sufficiently awake, they had gone back to looking through the shop's files as if Eggsy's little trip 'home' had changed nothing.       

Eggsy hummed and nodded to himself a great deal, but he never told Harry exactly what he had learned or what it meant.  By the afternoon, Harry had begun to suspect that Eggsy was _trying_ to aggravate him. 

"But I don't _need_ your help," Eggsy pointed out.  Harry knew for sure that he was being patronized that time- but he thought that maybe Eggsy was also trying to be kind.  Trying to do him a favor. 

Maybe he was.  Maybe Eggsy intended to keep him in the dark because a privilege of the deal Harry had made was that his hands remain relatively clean.  Harry wasn’t sure Eggsy had really earned the benefit of the doubt, but he did his best to keep his voice even- at least- when he said, “I understand, but I'd like to know what you're doing.  I'd _like_ to help."  Frankly, Harry needed something to do.  

Eggsy's face softened.  He pushed a sheet of paper towards Harry.

Harry frowned at the paper.  It was a list of names, many of which had been struck off.  “Who are these people?” he asked, his mind producing any number of appropriately devilish explanations for both the list and the names. 

“They used to be some of your uncle’s best customers.  As you can see, he lost a lot of them.  You need to get them back.”

"How?" Even as he said it, Harry wasn't completely sure if he was asking _how did he lose them all?_ or _how am I supposed to get them back?_

“Everyone wants something,” Eggsy said, obviously assuming Harry meant the latter.  He clapped Harry on the shoulder.  "All we have to do is find a way to give it to them."  

"Unless you've got something more... impressive in mind," Harry said, "all I have to give is a good suit."

"In most cases, that should be all you've gotta give," Eggsy told him.  "After all, there's no substitute for a good suit." 

Harry frowned.  His father used to say that- and Harry knew he'd said it his share of times as well.  He couldn't recall ever doing so to Eggsy, though- and yet... And yet Eggsy said it like he was copying Harry- teasing him, even.  The accent and the intonation were both eerily perfect.   

He didn't realize that he was staring- rather rudely- until Eggsy gave him a strange look.  "What?" Eggsy asked. 

“It’s nothing,” Harry said at last.  It really was nothing. 

Eggsy didn’t look like he believed that, but he didn’t press Harry further.  “Your uncle fucked most of these people over.  You gotta give them a call and convince them that you deserve a chance to win them back.”

This smacked a little of begging, and Harry didn't like it- but one would think selling his soul was several steps beyond simply asking for help in terms of his pride, and it wouldn’t even be charity, just the opportunity to right a wrong.  His uncle had given him little choice, and Harry apparently couldn’t expect Eggsy to work miracles- or whatever the infernal equivalent was.  Harry had always said that he wasn’t afraid of hard work.  This was his chance to prove it.  He nodded slowly and said, “Will I have the infrastructure to keep the promises I make to these people?”

Eggsy nodded, a little grimly.  “Yeah.  You will.”  He tapped the list in Harry's hands.  “Make the calls, Harry.  That’s what you can do.”

Harry did as he was asked. 

Still, he rather thought Eggsy had given him an easy job to distract him from whatever he was really up to.  And maybe Harry was right that it was a distraction, but easy?  Over the next three days, Harry discovered that his task was anything but.

Harry had known going into this that his uncle had had problems- but the extent of them still took him by surprise.  

"Percival Morton?" Harry said when a man answered the phone.   

"That's right," said the man. 

This was on the first day.  Morton was the fifth name on Harry's list, and he had already been hung up on twice and shouted at once.  He had made tentative inroads, though, during his fourth call- and he was riding on the high of that moderate success.  "My name is Harry Hart.  I own Kingsman Tailors, but my uncle ran the shop for several years.  I've only recently returned to the business, and I'm making some calls to determine how exactly he lost so many customers."

"So we weren't the only ones."  Morton sounded thoughtful. 

"No, sir," Harry said.  "If you would prefer to keep your... disagreement private I understand, but I would like to make amends if I can."

Morton gave a quiet harrumph.  "He was... opposed to filling a certain order."

"I see."  Harry didn't completely, though he doubted it was Percival's fault.  Harry had been guilty of questioning a customer's order in his time- when the style wasn't at all suited to them or the color was bad- but he had never allowed it to carry him all the way to refusal.  "May I ask-"

"It was for my niece."

"I see," Harry said again, beginning to.  "That does sound like my uncle."  Harry hoped his tone would convey what he wasn't sure he could explain otherwise- his own experience with his uncle's attitudes, and his dislike of the same.  "Well.  Should whatever arrangements you've made since then fall through, you and your niece will find me much more accommodating."

Morton sounded a little surprised- maybe at Harry, maybe at himself- when he said, "I may do that."

"Thank you," Harry said, and hung up the phone.     

Unfortunately, that proved to be one of the simplest calls Harry got to make.  It was hard work and- frankly- a little humiliating.  By the second day Harry wanted to tear his hair out.  By the third he wanted to ask Eggsy if he could take Harry home with him next time so he could throttle his uncle himself. 

And Eggsy- Eggsy was Harry's other difficulty.  Harry still hadn't forgotten the slight caginess in his manner when he promised that Harry would have the resources to keep his word to those customers he coaxed back to the shop.  Harry was sure Eggsy was insulating him from something at best and hiding something from him at worst- but Eggsy wasn't making it easy to figure out which it was. 

Eggsy was gone much of the time- and whenever he returned Harry would discover, after, that he had just a bit more money than he'd had before.  A bank account here, a credit card there, even the rainy day cash box Harry kept in the closet... all of them showed a little supplement.  Between his trips Eggsy would show up, check in on Harry, and melt away again.  It was strange to Harry- and supernatural enough to be an argument for Eggsy's demonic status all on its own- that someone with such a large presence should appear and disappear with such ease.  He would often bring Harry a cup of coffee, a sandwich, or a glass of scotch and be gone again before Harry could thank him for it. 

One evening, though, Harry was finally between phone calls for long enough to speak with Eggsy before he vanished.  "Where are you going?" he asked, catching Eggsy by the sleeve.  "And what are you up to?"   

"Up to?" Eggsy asked with exaggerated innocence.  He leaned back against Harry's desk. 

"You're going somewhere and doing something- and it's getting me capital.  I'd like to know what it is."  Harry slumped back in his chair.  The possibilities dancing through his mind troubled him greatly.  “Are you… stealing it?”  He could think of even worse things that Eggsy might be doing.  He needed to know about them- and, if he wished to continue thinking of himself as a good man, attempt to mitigate Eggsy where possible.

Eggsy shook his head with surprising vehemence.  “It’s honest.  Ish.”

"Ish?” Harry repeated.  He felt like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach, but he also felt his lips twitching upward into a smile. 

“Your uncle had a gambling problem.”

“Ah,” Harry said. The urge to smile left him, but so did most of his discomfort.  He really should have known.  Bad luck and a worse personality alone couldn’t explain how quickly and utterly things had gone wrong for his uncle.  “And?”

“And I been getting back the money he lost.”

“In... in the same way he lost it?”

“ _I_ can’t lose, Harry,” Eggsy said with a smirk.

“I see.  Hence the ‘ish.’"  Harry took a drink of his scotch.  He tried to feel bad about what Eggsy was up to, but in his experience casinos often stole away livelihoods with a house that rarely lost.  He actually thought it was rather fitting that Eggsy give them a taste of their own medicine.  Still, he added, “Will you show me?  Tomorrow night, perhaps?”

Eggsy grinned.  “It’s a date.”   

*   *   *

Or, as Harry reminded himself all of that night and for the rest of the following day, it was emphatically _not_ a date.  That was just a figure of speech.  

"Don't get excited, old man," Harry told his reflection. 

Still, Harry couldn't deny that it felt a bit like one.  It felt like one as he tugged nervously at his cuffs and the line of his suit, making sure it hung just so.  It felt like one as Eggsy strolled into his office that evening, a blinding grin on his face.  "You ready, Harry?"

Harry directed one more glance toward the mirror on his closet door.  He could see Eggsy reflected back over his shoulder, and it wasn't at all helpful.  Eggsy had... dressed up, for a given value of the term.  He wore an ensemble that was undoubtedly expensive- it was also quite possibly the most garish thing in existence.  The jacket was a _blinding_ shade of yellow- and his shoes had wings on them, for goodness' sake. 

Perhaps Eggsy had bought them because he enjoyed the irony.  

His personal opinions about the outfit aside, Harry couldn't deny that Eggsy looked good.  Very good.  Harry felt the urge to make a suit for Eggsy rising in him again.  He tamped it down as best he could, but his mouth was dry and he wondered if he had made a mistake suggesting this.  He almost backed down.  But no- he had wanted to have some involvement in Eggsy's efforts on his behalf, wanted to know what he was up to.  He couldn't change his mind just because Eggsy was a handsome young whatever-he-was. 

Harry let out a long breath.  "As ready as I'll ever be, Eggsy."      

Eggsy grinned and crooked his arm.  "C'mon, then."

Harry thought about not taking the arm.  It wasn't exactly maintaining the distance he needed if he was going to make the whole _being attracted to Eggsy isn't part of the deal_ thing work.  But Eggsy looked _happy,_ and- even if that was just because he could sense Harry's discomfort- it wasn't worth wiping the smile off his face.  He took Eggsy's arm.  

It was surprisingly muscular, and unsurprisingly warm.  Harry tried to focus on hellfire and other unpleasant things as they headed downstairs.  It didn't help much. 

They took a cab to the casino.  With the indifferent driver as his only audience, Harry asked, "So what's the plan?"

Eggsy was pressed closer to Harry than he thought was strictly necessary.  It was difficult not to notice the heat of him, the smell.  Eggsy didn't smell like sulfur or even smoke, despite his habit.  He smelled _good_.  And it was a little late for Harry to call his curiosity scientific, though he did think a bit of investigation was in order.   

As many arguments as Harry had been able to put toward his _Eggsy is in fact a demon_ theory, none of them were overwhelming on their own.  If Eggsy really was some kind of monster, there simply wasn't an obvious sign of it that Harry could detect.  A part of Harry wanted to just accept Eggsy's help without asking any more questions.  Another part of him insisted he had done that for too long already.  It remembered everything he had ever learned about demons, how manipulative they could be, and thought that whether it was too late for his soul or not he had to know more about what he had gotten himself into.

"There don't have to be a plan for everything," Eggsy said.  He laughed to himself and, smiling faintly, took a phone out of his pocket and typed something into it.  He pocketed the phone again without explanation. 

Harry sighed.  "I'd simply like more information about what you have in mind."

Eggsy shrugged.  "Usually I do whatever seems like fun at the moment.  Cards, mainly.  Sometimes dice."  His eyes glinted as he glanced toward Harry.  "Got any requests?"

Harry considered that.  "I was thinking perhaps roulette," he said at last.  Roulette's supposedly devilish history aside, it was a game where winning was more a question of luck than poker or even blackjack.  If he wanted to see what Eggsy was really capable of, that would be the superior way to do it.  _There_ , Harry thought.  If Eggsy really did always win, he would have learned something useful from this excursion.  What he would do with that information Harry wasn't sure, but it would be better than what little he knew now.  

"Sure," Eggsy said, and grinned.

Harry nodded and looked straight ahead.  His elbow brushed against Eggsy's as they sat in silence for the rest of the journey. 

The address Eggsy had given the cab driver was familiar to Harry.  He had never been there himself, but he knew it was rather upscale and he was concerned that Eggsy wouldn't be admitted, even in his new wardrobe.  The moment they arrived Harry realized that he had been wrong to worry; Eggsy was very much in his element.  Harry had always known that the impression a gentleman gave was only half his clothes; the rest was how he carried himself- but Harry had never seen such a perfect manifestation of the principle before. 

Eggsy walked into that casino like he owned it, and the crowds parted like he was right.  It really was somehow supernatural, the way everyone looked at him, and the way he accepted it as his due.  It was also- Harry could admit in the privacy of his own mind- devastatingly attractive. 

"Wanna pick a table, Harry?" Eggsy asked. 

Harry scanned the room.  It was large, decorative without being too gaudy, and very well lit by a number of chandeliers.  There was a bar towards the back of the main floor, and the roulette tables weren't far from it.  Harry shrugged. 

Eggsy paused in the midst of likewise scanning the room, lips quirking upward.  He pointed to one of the tables.  "How about that one?"

The table Eggsy had indicated had a bald croupier.  Clustered around his table Harry could see an older man who looked like a professor, a pretty young blond woman, and a husband and wife pair. "Very well," Harry said.

Eggsy headed in that direction without another word, and once again Harry had no choice but to follow him.    

When Harry arrived, the wheel was already in spin and Eggsy was waiting until the croupier- who was clearly familiar with Eggsy- was free.  Judging from the reactions at the table, the professor was having a string of bad luck.  Eggsy hung back, present but unobtrusive, and watched them all with a thoughtful expression.  This wasn't the first time Harry had noticed how quiet Eggsy was capable of being, but he was still amazed by it. 

Unobtrusive Eggsy departed as quickly as he had appeared, however.  As soon as the croupier spoke to him he was all blinding smiles, buying in for an incredibly high amount. 

Harry leaned close to Eggsy's arm.  "Are you going to ask me to blow on anything?"  He had a feeling Eggsy intended to put on a show. 

Eggsy looked delighted.  "Nah," he said, wrapping an arm around Harry's waist.  "Don't need luck anyway- do I, babe?" 

And there was something else Harry hadn't yet seen enough of to handle very well: how Eggsy could turn on the charm.  The words could easily have smacked of gloating, could easily have alienated everyone around him.  But Eggsy had an almost-innocent grin on his face as he looked from Harry to the others, as if he was inviting them to share in the best news of his life.  As if he was really saying that anyone who had Harry on his arm could win or lose and still be the luckiest man alive.  And there was no mistaking the way he was touching Harry, the way he was looking at him.  Harry _was_ on his arm. 

Harry cleared his throat, keeping his face expressionless by sheer force of will alone.  The way Eggsy suddenly had everyone eating out of the palm of his hand was... entrancing, and if Eggsy kept behaving this way Harry might _do_ something about it. 

Eggsy was still grinning as he placed his bet- and won, of course. 

Once Eggsy had made a tidy profit, he cashed in and left the table.  Harry, as ever, trailed along behind.  Eggsy tried his hand at a slot machine, and then he moved on to cards and then dice after all. 

There was no denying that Eggsy had skill, or that he was doing well- but _supernaturally_ well?  Harry wasn't so sure about that.  Eggsy _did_ lose- less than he won, certainly, but it happened.  Everyone at their roulette table had had a win while Eggsy was there; the professor's luck had even turned around entirely, and wherever Eggsy went at least one other person started doing just a little better than before.

Harry decided not to call him on it right away.  He doubted Eggsy would give him a straight answer at all, but he definitely wouldn't in front of strangers.  Harry waited until they took a break for drinks.

Eggsy wiggled a little on his stool and toasted Harry as the bartender walked off.  "Good night so far, yeah?"

It was at least half a question, and Harry supposed that it was the best opening he was likely to get.  "Very good- but I wouldn't say you've proven that you can't lose."    

Eggsy rolled his eyes up toward the ceiling and then down into his glass.  He laughed quietly.  "Can't get much past you."

"So you _can_ lose."

Eggsy nodded.  "I shouldna told you I couldn't.  More like... I only lose if I choose to."

Harry wasn't sure he believed that, but he was fascinated nevertheless.  "Why would you choose to?"

"To keep things civil, mainly.  First time I tried gambling, I won at everything I did, all the time.  I figured out pretty quick that you can have too good a streak.  The other people at the tables, the casino employees... they're into it at first, but that changes.  They get suspicious, they get angry, things turn ugly."

"That makes sense, I suppose." 

Eggsy's mouth twisted.  "Why do you think I been just bringing back bits of cash, not a fortune?  The best way to play is like this: I decide how much I wanna win, I make sure everybody has a good time while I do it, and when I'm done I don't get greedy, I just go home."    

Harry nodded again.  It all sounded perfectly logical.  It also might be another lie.  "And how much did you intend to make tonight?"

The wry half-smile on Eggsy's face turned into a fully-fledged grin, like he had been hoping Harry would ask him exactly that.  He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, showing something typed out on the screen to Harry.  It was exactly the amount Eggsy had made before he suggested they stop for drinks, and Harry had been watching him all evening.  He hadn't touched the phone since they left the cab.  

Harry swallowed heavily.  The back of his neck prickled.  His stomach twisted faintly.  "Well," he said at last.  "And here you were teasing me about wanting to make a plan."

Eggsy laughed again.

Harry felt... strange.  As bizarre as the whole business was- as bizarre as many things about Eggsy were- Harry couldn't help feeling warmed by the sound of his laughter.  He couldn't fight the answering smile that tugged at his lips.  "Are we finished here, then?"

Eggsy cocked his head to one side, giving Harry a sly smile.  "We could stay a bit longer, if you wanted."

"What happened to not getting greedy?"

Eggsy shrugged.  "Just a little more wouldn't hurt.  C'mon, Harry- gimme a number."

Harry thought about telling Eggsy they should just head back to the shop- but he was impressed, and he was curious, and honestly he preferred not to return to his lonely couch just yet.   So he gave Eggsy a number. 

Grinning, Eggsy drained his glass. 

Harry kept nursing his drink.  He gave Eggsy a wave when he left the bar, content to keep his distance as Eggsy worked the room.  Eggsy drew a _lot_ of attention.  He was charming, he was irreverent, and he had spent half the night with a man twice his age on his arm like a trophy husband.  Harry wondered, as he watched Eggsy make his way to the roulette table, if being a curiosity was another part of Eggsy's game, or if it was one thing he did unintentionally.  He also wondered if Eggsy had gone back to roulette because it was the game Harry had chosen in the beginning, because he knew the croupier, or because he had actually favored it all along.     

Plenty of people had come and gone over the course of the evening, but the blonde woman and the professor were still at the table.  Both of them clearly remembered Eggsy.  

It was pleasant, Harry found, to watch him work from outside his little vortex of charisma.  More fun that way.   

"I haven't seen you here before," someone said. 

Harry turned to look in the direction of the voice.  There was a young man leaning one elbow against the bar a few seats down from Harry.  These seats weren't occupied, so their view of one another was unencumbered.  The young man wore a lovely black suit, entirely proper except that he had gone without a tie.  Harry had to admit that the effect was... very rakish.   

The young man was about Eggsy's age, perhaps a little older- assuming, of course, that Eggsy's age and appearance went at all hand-in-hand.  He was smiling at Harry, interest clear on his face.

Harry resisted the urge to look over his shoulder to see who the young man actually had an eye on.   

"Let me guess," he continued, definitely looking at Harry, "you're not a gambler?"

Finally- slowly- Harry said, "No."  He took a larger sip of his drink than usual, and it burned down his throat.  "I've never thought it particularly wise, as hobbies go." 

"If you're not enjoying yourself, why are you here now?" 

"I didn't say I wasn't enjoying myself."  Harry glanced reflexively toward the roulette table.  Eggsy had a small pile of chips in front of him, and Harry could see that he was already winning.  He also already had everyone back under his spell.  Eggsy was poetry in motion; Harry would be a fool not to appreciate the opportunity to look his fill while Eggsy was none the wiser.    

"Ah," the young man said.  He sidled closer.  He was looking at Eggsy too, and the look was knowing. 

"Let _me_ guess," Harry said.  "You _have_ seen _him_ here before." 

"Of course."

Harry wondered what narrative, exactly, this young man had built around the two of them in his mind.  Did he think Eggsy was gone most nights and Harry was lonely?  Did he think Harry was jealous, suspicious, desperate to account for his much younger partner's movements?  Then Harry wondered whether he actually cared what this stranger thought- incorrectly- of him.  

The young man worked his way closer still and stuck out a hand.  "I'm Charlie, by the way."  His grip, when Harry took the offered hand, was warm and firm, and he didn't let go after Harry had given his own name.  "Now that we're properly introduced, I have to ask- is there any chance you're... interested in upgrading?"

"Pardon?"  Harry jerked his hand free.  He couldn't believe what he'd just heard.  He hadn't necessarily been under the impression that he was talking to a true gentleman, but _that_ was beyond crass. 

He almost asked what sort of person, exactly, this young man thought he was dealing with.  Harry had already supposed that he looked like a trophy husband, but no one actually thought Harry was somehow for _sale_ , did they?  But Charlie did, Harry realized.  And he thought so because it was true, in a way. 

"You're someone else I don't remember from the club, aren't you?" Harry said. 

Charlie's expression was one of intense, almost dogged, amusement.  "Of _course_.  Of course you don't remember the club."

Harry heard sounds of excitement and shock coming from the roulette table, but it seemed very far away to him now.  He took another drink.  It didn't settle him at all.  Harry felt strange.  He knew that everything went back to the club, that there were still too many unanswered questions about his time there.  Why had he let himself forget that for so long? 

Charlie's amusement intensified.  "You don't remember meeting Eggsy either, do you?" 

"No," Harry said through gritted teeth.  He told himself that at least he'd gotten some workable information out of the admission- that this young man knew Eggsy.  Was- possibly- another demon.  It didn't feel like enough. 

Charlie laughed delightedly.  "We should talk, then, you and I."

"What exactly do we have to talk about?"

"You," Charlie said, "being here, when you don't even like casinos.  I mean honestly, is this what you made your deal for?"

"It's not what I was expecting, I'll grant you," Harry said.  "Not that I had any idea what to expect."  He considered his options for a moment.  "How much do you know about what I made my deal for?"

"Only what you told the bartender, and that can hardly be all you desire.  But I'd be happy to learn more, if you were interested in... changing providers, as it were.  Don't I seem more like your type?"

"You don't know anything about his type, Charlie," Eggsy said. 

Harry wasn't sure how long ago Eggsy had left the roulette table, or how much he had overheard.  Charlie, though, was smirking as if he liked Eggsy knowing that he had made a play for Harry- and maybe that made sense, because Eggsy looked _furious_. 

"You never did," he spat.

"Eggsy," Harry tutted.  "Eavesdropping is hardly polite."

Eggsy's eyes flew wide.  He looked at Harry with shock and- was that hurt?  Fear, even?  _Yes._ Yes, he looked _afraid_ that Harry had indeed been won over that easily. 

Harry was a little offended.  He didn't trust Eggsy, not completely, but he liked him better than Charlie- and, as the saying went, better the devil one knew. 

In the second Harry spent thinking that, everything about Eggsy's posture changed.  He squared his shoulders and he set his jaw, and his eyes glowed like there was a fire inside him.  "Charlie," he said.  "You-"

Harry was a little afraid that if he touched Eggsy right then that fire would burn him alive, but he only hesitated for a second.  Charlie's eyes had gone yellow too, and Harry had a feeling that if they fought it would be bad for everyone.  He planted a hand on Eggsy's chest.  "Don't." 

He was surprised by how automatically Eggsy obeyed him, and by how pleasant Eggsy felt under his hand.   

Harry shook himself and turned his attention back to Charlie.  "I'm quite satisfied with my provider at present, but you may rest assured that I will let you know if that changes.  Now, if you'll excuse us..."  Harry gripped Eggsy's sleeve and tugged him toward the nearest exit.  He thought Charlie was socially aware enough to take that for the snub it was- after all, Harry had rather pointedly not asked for any contact information.  

The door Harry had pulled Eggsy through was tucked into the far back corner and wedged open with a rock.  Judging by the bits of rubbish and the one or two cigarette butts in the alley beyond, Harry guessed that the casino employees often took their breaks there.  It was empty at the moment. 

Harry took Eggsy by the forearms.  "Do you need minute?"

Eggsy laughed.  The sound was a trifle reedy, but it sounded genuine, and his eyes were blue-green again.  "I'm okay, Harry.  I just hate Charlie."

"You have a history, I presume?"

Eggsy nodded.

"Does he often follow you around and attempt to poach your clients?"

Eggsy made a noncommittal sound. 

Harry frowned, considering that non-answer.  "I hadn't realized I was still... hmm... up for grabs, as it were."

Eggsy scowled, leaning back against the wall.  "It ain't considered... well, _polite_ to try something like that.  But as long as the- you know-" Eggsy made an unenlightening hand gesture- " _transaction_ ain't fully complete, you could still make your deal with somebody else."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah."  Eggsy scuffed the already grimy wall with his heel.  "Free will is the name of the game."

"Is it?  If you don't mind my saying so, mind games seem rather too common for that."  There was Harry's own uncharacteristic behavior in the club that first night.  There was Eggsy's easy manipulation of the people he talked to.  There was the fact that Harry suddenly wasn't sure he had been acting at all rationally since they met. 

He constantly reminded himself to learn more about what he was dealing with and then forgot again.  He had let his missing time from the club slip his mind entirely until Charlie appeared- and even when he thought about it then the memories had already begun to slip away from him again. 

Harry couldn't allow this to continue.  He knew that, and he knew why, and yet-

"It ain't like that."  Eggsy shoved his hands into his pockets.  "We can give... nudges.  But we can't make people do or say anything they don't want to, and we can't influence them much at all without them noticing.  And I haven't with you, Harry.  Swear down."

Perhaps it was weakness- perhaps it was _denial_ \- but Harry took Eggsy at his word.  He leaned against the wall beside Eggsy, letting his arm brush against Eggsy's elbow.  "And your- forgive me- your body?"

Eggsy looked at him askance.

Harry wasn't at all sure of his phrasing, but this was something he had to get out, had to know while he was still strong enough to wonder.  "Are you... possessing someone?"

Eggsy laughed again, sounding more and more like his usual self.  "No way.  Nobody's kicking around in here but me." 

Releasing a long breath, Harry nodded.  He believed Eggsy.  He wondered if Eggsy would ask why all this was so important to him, and was relieved when Eggsy didn't.  He could let the rest go, he thought.  This was his life now, however strange and puzzling.  Fussing and hand-wringing would not change it.  

The relief was short-lived, however, as Eggsy withdrew something from his pocket.  Harry anticipated a cigarette with a mixture of hope and dread.  He really did know it was a nasty habit.  It wasn’t one he intended to pick up again, except that the chance to put his lips over Eggsy’s was so very tempting- and honestly, what did Harry expect? 

Making him reacquire a taste for cigarettes was probably the nicest thing Eggsy was going to do to him before all this was over, however well-intentioned he liked to appear. 

But then Eggsy was holding two lollipops instead.  He caught Harry staring and opened his hand.  "Easier for me to quit than it would be for you," he explained. "Want one?"

Harry hesitated.  He took a sweet finally and simply held on to it, the paper crinkling in his fist as he watched Eggsy unwrap his own. 

"So," Eggsy said from around it, "you ain't interested in a different provider?"

A spark of arousal flared to life in Harry’s belly as Eggsy tongued at the ridge along one side of the lollipop.  "Not just now," he managed.  He knew he was being teased.  He also knew it was working.  

"What do I tell Charlie if he shows up again?"

"You could tell him to go fuck himself," Harry said.  It was primarily for shock value, though he did mean it- and it worked beautifully.  Eggsy almost did himself an injury. 

When he finally stopped coughing, Eggsy took the lollipop out of his mouth, expression torn between amusement and astonishment.  "That's not very polite, Harry."

"No," Harry said.  "I suppose it isn't."  He started to unwrap his own lollipop.

Eggsy laughed out loud. 

*   *   *

They had to go back into the casino so Eggsy could collect his winnings- the amount he had typed into his phone plus the amount Harry had come up with at the bar exactly.  Harry looked for Charlie while they were inside, but he didn't see him anywhere. 

He spent the next few days waiting for a multitude of demonic stalkers to come out of the woodwork.

None did, of course- and so Harry settled into a new routine.  He had paid off most of his debts by that time, and he was able to invest a little money in materials.  More employees, he had decided, would have to come after more customers did.  For the time being Harry was content to do most of the work himself; it was good to keep busy.   

Harry's one real indulgence came on the third day after their trip to the casino.  After listening to Eggsy badger him to treat himself for what felt like the thousandth time, Harry went out and bought a futon.  He did it because he was no longer destitute and he deserved a better night's sleep, and not at all because he had woken up at around 2:00 AM the other night and seen Eggsy curled up on the floor, sleeping with his head propped up on the couch next to Harry's feet.

Eggsy still came and went frequently, and at odd hours- though less so than before he told Harry about the casino- and he wasn't there the next night, or the night after that.  Harry was beginning to wonder if he'd actually dreamed it.

After the arrival of the futon, Eggsy nevertheless began to treat the couch as his particular domain in the daylight.

Harry hadn't told him off about it yet. 

If nothing else, Eggsy seemed more appreciative of shared silence than Harry would have anticipated.  Harry could be buried in notes or forms or designs for hours after closing up for the day, and he would hardly have known Eggsy was there those times he was except for the cadence of his breathing and- more often than not- the soft noises of him sucking on a lollipop.  Mostly, that didn't bother Harry.  

Mostly. 

"You have something of an oral fixation, don't you?" Harry said.  This was on an evening ten days, five lollipops, one cigarette, and a rather provocatively eaten meal into their acquaintance, and Harry was... a tiny bit frustrated.  

"Maybe," he heard Eggsy say.  He hadn't yet looked up from his notebook; he didn't really _want_ to see Eggsy's face just then.  "Wanna find out firsthand?"

Harry was so startled that he almost snapped the pen he was holding in two.  "Pardon?"  He was reminded uncomfortably of the night in the casino, with Charlie.  He was even more surprised than he had been then, though perhaps that was foolish.  He had instigated this, after all.  Eggsy was merely finishing it.  

Instead of repeating his question, Eggsy elaborated: "I mean, don'tcha ever get horny?"  

 _That_ made Harry look at Eggsy.  He knew his mouth was hanging open stupidly. 

"I know you ain't with someone," Eggsy said, sprawled out across the couch like he was on display.  "And you haven't picked anybody up, so-"

"It's hardly been a _week_ ," Harry said.  He was annoyed by how much like a horrified schoolmarm he sounded, but he stood by the remark.  Ten days wasn't very long at all to go without sex, particularly not for a man of his age.  He regretted it a moment later, however, because it had been _much_ longer than ten days since he'd last been with someone, and he _was_ horny or he wouldn't have said anything.  He wouldn't be keeping a running tally of every time Eggsy had wrapped those lips around something in his presence.

Eggsy smirked like he knew all that, and he probably did.  He swirled his tongue over the lollipop.  He had probably known from the start exactly how attracted to him Harry was.  The lollipop had stained his lips an artificial crimson, and that alluring flash of tongue...

Harry swallowed heavily. 

Eggsy's smirk widened, a candy-red gash across his face.  “My point is that if you wanted to- you know- fuck, we could totally do that.”

"That's part of my package, is it?"  Harry heard himself say the words as though his body was being operated by someone else.   It was an uncomfortable feeling. 

Eggsy waved Harry off.  "S'not like that.  I'm just... interested.  And I been flirting my arse off, here."  He sat up and leaned forward.  "If you're not into it, just say so and I'll leave you alone.”  Eggsy punctuated this statement by sucking at the lollipop between his lips and then releasing it with a wet pop, which rather bellied the earnest effect he had probably been going for. 

“I'm interested,” Harry said.  He didn't have it in him to lie. 

“Sweet,” Eggsy said, starting to get up.  “I’ll blow you.”

Harry’s cock- already half hard- stiffened, but there was a desk between him and Eggsy and he managed to keep his face at least partially impassive.  He raised an eyebrow.  “Will you?”

“You been thinking about it ever since I been sucking on this.”  Eggsy gestured with the lollipop, sounding very confident. 

“I’ve been thinking about a lot of things,” Harry replied.  “But what I would particularly like… is a taste.” 

Eggsy blinked eyes that were almost all pupil.  He held far too many of the cards to have made a suggestion like this one without wanting it exactly as much as he claimed, but it was still an incredible boost to Harry’s ego- the shaken, hungry look on his face as he held out the lollipop.

Harry would have taken his taste from Eggsy’s lips happily enough, but this would do as well.  He dragged his tongue around the raised rim, holding Eggsy’s eyes as he did so.  Eggsy didn’t seem like he could have looked away if he wanted to, and that was an ego boost as well.  Considering the manner of his... seduction, Eggsy had most likely done this before, with other clients.  He thought he knew where this was going, and he was wrong.  Harry had no doubt that Eggsy gave a good blowjob.  He would rather like to find out firsthand.  But Eggsy also turned Harry on he was using that mouth of his to _speak_ \- and watching Eggsy with that lollipop had made Harry’s mouth water to suck on something far more than to be sucked. 

Judging from the noise Eggsy made as he watched Harry wrap his lips around the lollipop, that message was coming through loud and clear.  Harry released the sweet with a wet pop, but his lips were unoccupied for only a second- maybe less- before Eggsy was kissing him as though his life depended on it. 

It was awkward at first, because Eggsy had launched himself from the couch and gone half around and half over Harry's desk, and because the chair- a good one that Harry's uncle had probably spent even more money he didn’t have on- wasn’t really built to hold two people.  For a second, Eggsy was kissing him so hard it was like being punched in the mouth and Harry really thought they were going to overbalance.  But they never did- possibly Eggsy was using superhuman powers just so he could ravish Harry’s mouth like this- and then, without taking his lips off Harry’s for even a moment, Eggsy renegotiated his position until his knees were framing Harry’s hips and he could lean down and kiss Harry until he couldn’t think about anything else.

Eggsy was indeed very good with that tongue.  His lips were soft and warm and insistent, and the inside of his mouth was hot, and it tasted much sweeter than the lollipop had.  His hands came up to cradle Harry’s face, his thumbs smoothing over Harry’s cheeks while his fingertips knitted themselves into Harry’s hair.  The weight of him in Harry’s lap was prefect. 

Harry caught Eggsy’s tongue, sucked on it, and slowly withdrew.  After all, he had plans and just kissing Eggsy for ages- though a more tempting prospect than he had expected it to be- was not one of them.  

He wrapped his arms around Eggsy’s back and squeezed his arse.  Eggsy made a pleased sound and chased Harry’s lips, but he was soon distracted.  Harry stood up with Eggsy still in his arms and carried him the short distance back to the couch, spilling him out across it. 

Eggsy looked startled for a moment, but pleasantly so, and the expression faded altogether when Harry perched on the arm of the couch and bent to kiss him some more. 

Harry slid his hand down Eggsy's chest and then up again, working underneath the hem of his shirt. 

"Fuck," Eggsy breathed as Harry touched him.

Harry was trying to remember how hot bare skin normally felt underneath his hands.  Eggsy was warm, so warm, and Harry honestly couldn't tell if he was inhumanly so or not. 

The plane of Eggsy's stomach was smooth and sparsely haired, and Harry didn't linger there long.  He worked his fingers back down, squeezing Eggsy's cock through his jeans.  He was pleasingly hard. 

Harry moved quickly, shoving his hand under Eggsy's waistband and into his pants.  

The flurry of curses _that_ unleashed included several Harry had never heard in his life.  Harry wondered if he had just learned his first demonic swear words.   

He massaged Eggsy lightly with the flat of his palm at first, getting familiar with the size and shape of him.  He was tempted, again, to linger.  Eggsy looked stunning sprawled out on the couch, with his lips slack, his head thrown back to reveal an expanse of pale neck, and his legs spread, all for Harry.  And the noises he was making... Harry nipped at Eggsy's throat once and put his other hand to work, unbuckling Eggsy's belt and stripping it off.    

"You really don't mess around, do you?" Eggsy said.  He sounded... awed. 

Harry hummed as he unbuttoned Eggsy's jeans and pushed them- along with his boxers- down over his thighs.  "Not once I've made my mind up about something, anyway.  Or didn't the part where I was willing to sell my soul for a shop clue you in?"  Harry wasn't sure when he had become able to joke about that, but he wasn't entirely sorry he'd reached that point. 

Not when Eggsy laughed breathlessly and leaned upward, recapturing his lips. 

Harry kissed him back without protest, sinking into Eggsy's mouth again. 

He flung out a hand to balance himself, but it was too late to keep himself from falling almost on top of Eggsy.  He didn't mind that, though.  Eggsy felt good underneath him.  He wrapped his free hand around Eggsy's cock and stroked it, licking past Eggsy's lips at the same time.  

"And I have wanted you," he rasped when the kiss finally broke. 

"Who wouldn't," Eggsy said, but underneath he looked _delighted_ , like he had exactly what he'd wanted all along.  

Harry felt similarly, but he kept that to himself.  He gave Eggsy's cock a good squeeze and renegotiated his position, ultimately taking a pillow off the couch and throwing it on the floor so he could comfortably kneel in front of Eggsy- a much better angle for what he had in mind.

He pondered Eggsy's cock for a moment- the heat of it in his hand, the almost-purple flush of it.  It wasn't long- well, it wasn't _too_ long- but it was thick and it had a lightly tapered head, already a little damp and shiny.  Harry stroked Eggsy a few more times before the sight of pre-come oozing out of the slit spurred him forward. 

"I hope you've got condoms," he said. 

Eggsy pulled a face.  "I can't carry no diseases," he protested.  "Anyway-" his tongue flickered out over red-stained lips- "didn't you say you wanted to _taste_?"

Harry would be lying if he said he didn't, or that he wasn't considering taking Eggsy's word for it.  Someday, he thought he might- assuming there was a someday and this wasn't just a one-off.  For the time being, he simply gave Eggsy a Look.  

Eggsy pulled a handful of condoms out of his jacket pocket- more, Harry thought, than should have fit in there- and spilled them out over the couch cushions.  Harry wondered if Eggsy was really getting the money for Harry's shop gambling, but then using magic of some kind to put an unrealistic number of condoms in his pocket.  "I only got those in case you wanted them for non-safety reasons," Eggsy told Harry.  "Like if you didn't like the taste or whatever."

Harry snorted out a tiny laugh.  "Imagine I don't, if it makes you feel better."

Eggsy laughed too, and Harry just... stopped.  He hadn't been thinking much over the last few minutes, but if he had he would have been thinking that Eggsy was convenient and interested, that this was about taking the edge off of something that had been building for far too long.  But that wouldn't have been completely true, would it?  He had thought back at the casino that he liked Eggsy better than Charlie, but it was more than that.  He just liked Eggsy, period.  He considered whether that would add an unnecessary complication to all this.  He considered telling Eggsy he'd changed his mind.

And then he considered what it would do to him, to turn back now.

He selected a condom, one of the flavored ones, and started to unwrap it.  Eggsy had been right before.  Once he made up his mind, Harry didn't mess around. He slid it onto Eggsy's cock, nose wrinkling. 

"I don't like cherry," he said. 

"I'll remember th-"

Harry learned what he thought might be another demonic swear word as he licked a stripe up the underside of Eggsy's cock.  If he had allowed himself to imagine this before it happened, Harry might have imagined deep-throating Eggsy right off, but it had been too long since he'd last had a cock in his mouth- not as long as it had been since he'd last smoked a cigarette before Eggsy came along, but not by much.  Harry didn't doubt he'd get the hang of it again soon, but he needed to warm up a bit first.  Still, that reaction was highly satisfactory, and though Harry really didn't like this flavor much he thought it would grow on him.   

He kept his fingers wrapped around Eggsy's base as he sucked the head into his mouth.  He had missed this, the heaviness of a cock on his tongue, the noises a man made when he put just the right amount of pressure.  "Fuck, Harry," Eggsy whimpered. 

 _Beautiful_.  Harry pulled off, still stroking Eggsy lightly.  He glanced around, seeing Eggsy's fingers curled into fists around the couch cushions, and smirked a little, looking up at Eggsy through his lashes.

"And people call me a tease," Eggsy said. 

"If you don't want me to tease you, just ask," Harry said.  He didn't wait for Eggsy to ask before closing his eyes and opening his mouth again.  This time he was a little more adventurous, though- swallowing Eggsy down until his gag reflex protested, then working with his tongue a little.

"Harry, Harry," Eggsy was more breathless now.  "Would you-" another stream inhuman swearing.

Harry flicked his gaze up to Eggsy through prickling eyes, humming around his mouthful. 

"Yeah," Eggsy choked out.  "Yeah- look at me- fuck-"

Everything happened relatively quickly after that- and Harry did rather regret the condom when Eggsy twitched in his mouth and came, just like that.  He was staring straight at Harry, and Harry was staring straight back up at him.  Harry saw his eyes glow _gold_.  He didn't find the sight anywhere near as unsettling as he had before. 

It was only after he came- but still before he started to get soft- that Eggsy loosened his grip on the couch and touched Harry's hair.  He was slumped back, boneless and sighing, and Harry tightened his grip around the base of Eggsy's cock- just enough to keep the condom in place- and held Eggsy in his mouth for a while longer. 

Harry pushed his free hand into his own trousers at last, touching his neglected cock.

As if he could sense that, and maybe he could, Eggsy finally sat up.  "Lemme- Harry- let me return the favor?"  His lips were bitten and flushed as he smiled, tugging on Harry's shoulder.  "C'mon."

A little reluctantly- even knowing what was in store- Harry released Eggsy's cock and peeled the condom off, tossing it in the bin. 

He let Eggsy pull him up onto the couch.  Once Harry was settled, Eggsy wiggled down onto his stomach, lining up with Harry's groin.  Harry was a little embarrassed by the tent in his trousers and the pre-come staining them, but Eggsy licked his lips like he was hungry for it and the feeling fled entirely.  

Eggsy undid Harry's trousers with expert fingers and worked his cock free.  Harry suspected he only paused to put a condom on him because Harry waved it under his nose, and once he had it on he didn't waste any time swallowing Harry down.

 _Show off_ , Harry would have said if he'd had the breath to do so.  All that came out instead was a choked-off groan.  Eggsy's tongue was hot and soft, and he was doing something with his throat that Harry wasn't sure he had ever felt before. 

After what just happened, Harry didn't think he would have lasted long even if Eggsy had been terrible at this- and of course he wasn't.  Eggsy was every bit as skilled as all his smirking and teasing had suggested he would be.  He didn't suck Harry long at all before he was teetering on the edge, and Harry was glad for the condom then because it meant he didn't have to warn Eggsy that he was about to shoot a load down on his throat.       

When Harry finally did go over the edge, he came hard.  It had been such a long time, and Eggsy worked him so relentlessly, that for a moment Harry couldn't _see_.  And he thought that- if it was possible- his eyes would probably have glowed too. 

Eggsy sucked him gently for a while longer, then he pulled off.  "Wow," he said, voice appropriately gravelly.  He tossed the condom and sprawled out next to Harry.

Harry hummed in agreement.  For a few moments, they both lay there and caught their breath.  But then the sweat under Harry's clothes started to feel uncomfortable, and he wanted to change.  He also had an urge to get some work done, so he pulled himself up, fixed his clothes, and made for the door.

"Where you going?" Eggsy asked- well, mumbled. 

"Downstairs."

Eggsy galvanized somewhat.  "Do you get the urge to redecorate after you fuck or something?"

Harry shrugged, leaning against the door. 

Looking supremely annoyed, Eggsy sat up, tucked his cock back into his jeans about as unselfconsciously as Harry thought anyone could, and scrubbed a hand over his face.  "Okay.  Can I help?"    

"If you like," Harry said.  "I've been thinking I ought to put you to work."

Eggsy actually grinned.  "All right, then." 

He brushed past Harry in the doorway, the smell of sex still hanging heavily on him.  It didn't bother Harry on Eggsy the way it did on himself.  He almost liked it. 

Harry let Eggsy head downstairs ahead of him, appreciating the view.  Eggsy's jeans really did cling to his arse spectacularly- and now that Harry had actually put his hands on it, the sight gave him more ideas than ever. 

Perhaps he would get to act on them.  Assuming, again, that this wasn't just a one off.  

*   *   *

It wasn’t just a one-off- or so Harry thought it safe to conclude from Eggsy’s behavior after the fact.  If anything, he seemed more determined than ever to- as he had put it- flirt his arse off. 

As promised, Harry started Eggsy on a crash course working in the shop that very night. 

Eggsy teased him as much as ever.  When Harry pretended to be a customer to test Eggsy's interpersonal skills, he smirked and winked and made every word sound as if anything and everything but suits were on sale.  When Harry explained the differences between various cuts and styles to Eggsy, he came up with a number of sexual puns that should have been cringe-worthy but managed, somehow, to be charming instead.  When Harry taught him how to take a man's measurements, it quickly degenerated into the lewdest display Harry thought he had ever been subjected to in his life. 

He fully expected putting Eggsy to work in the shop instead of up in the office with the books to be his biggest mistake yet- but he was doing business, _good_ business, and he needed the extra pair of hands. 

Over the next week, Eggsy actually turned out to be quite the asset.  He was a trifle unpolished, certainly- and the sight of him out on the shop floor in that ghastly yellow jacket was enough to finally set Harry to work on a suit for him after all- but both personable and earnest.  He needled the customers only when they seemed open to it, flirted with no one but Harry, and those who now utilized Harry's shop found his attitude more refreshing than anything. 

 _Most_ of them, anyway- because while Harry's uncle had driven away a great many customers with his stubborn refusal to change with the times, there were a few he had kept that way.

Chester King was one of those.  He might as well have _been_ Harry's uncle, they had so much in common. 

"That guy is a _hard_ sell," Eggsy said of King one morning when he arrived to try out the suit Harry had been working on for him.  Harry had been busy with another client- a mixed blessing, since he was forced to leave Eggsy at King's mercy.  Harry had known from King's sneer when he first introduced Eggsy as his protégée that the two would never exactly bond, but he hadn't had much choice. 

Luckily, Eggsy seemed to be taking it in stride as usual.  Harry wasn't too surprised.  Eggsy was an excellent salesman- he had to be, considering- but he handled any hiccups with extraordinary grace.   

“Worst I ever met, probably," he added with a whistle.  "And that includes several _actual_ kings.”   

Harry blinked at Eggsy.  For a moment all questions of how to meet Chester King's exacting standards flew right out of his head.  In fact, everything that wasn't Eggsy- Eggsy whose previous clients had apparently been _kings_ \- flew right out of his head.   “I keep forgetting.”

Eggsy blinked too, looking faintly wary.  “Forgetting what?”

“How old you must be.” There were kings in the world still, of course, but the remark had suggested such... history.  And, well- Harry had warned himself from the beginning to avoid taking things at face value, up to and including Eggsy's actual face, but he still made a mistake now and then, didn't he?

Harry would have expected Eggsy to tease him again or at least puff up and give a little smirk- but he looked, if anything, warier than before.  “That bother you?”

“Bother me?” Harry repeated.  “Not at all.”

Quite the opposite, in fact.  Harry knew what almost everyone who saw them together- for the most part accurately- believed of them.  Knew what had made Chester King scowl as he had when he realized it was Eggsy who would be helping him.  Eggsy, who was young and beautiful and so clearly... disadvantaged.  Harry only half cared what King thought (what anyone thought, for that matter)- especially when he took into account that as beautiful as Eggsy was he wasn’t young after all, and Harry had not stepped into his life and saved it- it had been the other way around.    

Harry actually took a measure of comfort from that. 

Eggsy grinned, slow and tinged with relief.  Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it.  Had Eggsy truly worried that his years would bother Harry- and if so, why?  Surely Harry's opinion meant little in the larger scheme of things, and it wasn't as though there was anything to be done about it.  Eggsy was what he was- a whole person, or demon, or what have you.  Harry couldn't change him, and wouldn't wish to.  He had grown too fond of Eggsy for that. 

Harry kept that thought to himself.  He merely clasped Eggsy's arm and said, "Well, I'm free now."  He jerked his chin in the direction of the tie display, upset by a recent visitor to the shop.  "Why don't you fix that up while I finish with Mr. King?"

"Yeah, all right," Eggsy said with a small smile.  He slipped off. 

Harry rather regretted the kindness when Chester King reemerged from the fitting room almost right away. 

King directed a look of judgement toward Eggsy where he stood rearranging the tie display.  "May I ask," he said, chin held high, "if you intend to employ that young person full time?”

“I do,” Harry said.  “Perhaps you weren’t aware-” _and too busy agreeing with everything my uncle did and everyone he ignored or berated to notice-_ “but Kingsman had a rocky few years.  It took some time for me to clean house, but now that I have my hands are quite full.”

“I’m sure,” King said, tone sourly disapproving.  “Just as I’m sure he has… qualities which are not readily apparent.”

Harry made a noise of agreement, trying to focus his attention on how the jacket hugged the line of King’s shoulders rather than on his words, or on his implication about what quality _was_ apparent in Eggsy: that he warmed Harry’s bed, or- more accurately- his office.     

"But now that you _have_ cleaned house, surely you'll be able to do better."

"I doubt it," Harry replied.  “Eggsy is intelligent and industrious.  He quite saved my life.  I am- if anything- thinking of taking his recommendation when next I go hiring- which I expect will be soon now.”

"I see."  King's tone was icy.  "You must be aware that he’s hardly one of _us_.”

“Perhaps I prefer it that way.”

“Well.”  King turned toward the fitting room mirror and inspected his new suit critically.  “It’s good work.”  He frowned as he tugged on his cuffs, looking very much as though he had sucked on a lemon.  “Better than your uncle’s, I’m sorry to say.”

"Sorry?" Harry repeated, lifting a brow.  "Because you were friends?”

“Indeed.  And because I may have to patronize another establishment in the future.  I’m sure you understand.  I only stayed so long before we _were_ such great friends.”

“I understand perfectly,” Harry said. 

King’s eyes widened fractionally, which surprised Harry a bit.  King could hardly have expected him to start groveling after the previous exchange.  It was relatively obvious at that point- was it not- that they lived in two very different worlds?  Harry would have thought that they had said just about everything there was for them to say to each other.    

Unfortunately Harry was wrong about that- literally if not in spirit.  King still wanted to buy the suit Harry had made for him- a bit of irony if Harry had ever seen one- and not only did he need to peruse his bill, he would have to return for it once Harry had made some final alterations. 

That was going to be an awkward appointment indeed. 

When Harry finally finished with King, he felt exhausted, and more than anything he wanted to see Eggsy and put the whole business behind them.  By that time, Eggsy was gone- only upstairs, Harry hoped- and it was evening.  Harry supposed that closing early wouldn’t hurt under the circumstances, so he turned the sign around and headed upstairs in search of Eggsy. 

Harry found him in the office, just as he had hoped he might.  

Eggsy was leaning his shoulder against the window.  He had taken his jacket off, and- despite the fact that it was getting colder every day- he was down to his t-shirt and barefoot again.  His mouth twisted into a smile when he saw Harry.  “King didn’t look happy when he left.”

“I didn’t expect him to,” Harry replied. 

“So you didn’t manage to turn things around after I left?”

“I can't say I even tried.”  Harry took one step inside, then another.  “What was the last thing you heard?”        

“You telling him you was gonna ask me for advice when you started hiring,” Eggsy said. 

“Ah.”  At the time, Harry had been thinking in terms of a world in which Eggsy was who he seemed to be- a young man from the wrong side of the proverbial tracks who had fallen into Harry’s orbit somehow.  The look on Eggsy’s face kept Harry from saying as much; it was as though he fully expected Harry to tell him that his words had been for King’s benefit only- but actually hoped that he wouldn’t.  “If you did... have recommendations-" Harry spoke slowly- "I would be happy to hear them.” 

Eggsy’s eyes lit up. 

Harry lifted a hand.  "Good people, mind.  People who just need an employer to give them a chance.  No one... I would regret hiring.”

“’Course not,” Eggsy said in a casual voice that Harry fancied was a bad sign.  “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Of course not,” Harry heard himself agree.  He actually had no idea what Eggsy would or wouldn’t do.  That bothered him less than it probably should have.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, walking further into his office.  “I really shouldn’t have behaved as I did.  It was childish.”

“Bet it felt good, though.”  Eggsy pushed off the window, closing the remaining distance between them.  

“You’re not wrong, but... We’re doing better, but not well enough to excuse driving away customers because it feels good.”

“Wrong,” Eggsy said, taking Harry by his jacket lapels.  “We’re doing _great_.  Definitely well enough for you to tell some elitist piece of shite where he can shove it, Harry.”      

Harry nodded.  Eggsy wasn’t exactly wrong.  The first time King had come into the shop Harry had looked him up, checking to see how valuable a customer he was in case he eventually lost his temper.

They would be all right without him. 

“I still feel I shouldn’t have enjoyed it.”  Even as he said it Harry wasn't sure why he was harping on the matter. 

Eggsy bumped his forehead against Harry’s.  “Oh yeah?”  He nuzzled Harry’s face, catching his lips in a quick but messy kiss.  “How d’you feel about it now?”

“Better,” Harry murmured.  Now he knew why.  This was exactly what he had come up here hoping Eggsy would say and do; this was exactly how he had been hoping to feel- warm, relaxed, and vaguely pleased with himself. 

Eggsy kissed him again.  “And now?”

“Better.”  Eggsy’s kisses were dirty but fleeting and nowhere near _enough_.  Harry lifted his hands and pulled Eggsy closer to kiss him properly, crushing their lips together and bringing their bodies flush. 

Eggsy felt so good under his mouth.  The taste of his lips, the softness of his tongue... these things were not as new as they had been only a week earlier.  Harry had hardly been able to do anything while they were alone- or, indeed, to watch _Eggsy_ do anything- without being kissed for it.  And yet... kissing Eggsy was still a revelation, and so was the way Eggsy kissed him back, all hunger and need.  He seemed as desperate for Harry as Harry was for him.

 _Perhaps even more so_ , Harry thought as Eggsy's hips stuttered against him.  “Are you-” he started, the words just a mumble against Eggsy’s lips.

Eggsy heard him all the same, and he was grinning and pressing closer still, saying, “The fuck do you think?”

Harry hardly recognized his own voice, hardly recognized the noise he made.  Had Harry's behavior with King actually _aroused_ Eggsy?  Was that why had he left?  Or was it simpler than that?  Was kissing Harry alone enough to get Eggsy like this? 

He knew it was entirely possible that kissing _anyone_ was enough.  That Eggsy was just... to use another of his terms, horny.  It honestly didn't matter to Harry just then- because Harry was the one he was with at the moment.  No one else. 

Harry let his hand drag down Eggsy’s torso to rub between his legs.  Eggsy was, indeed, very hard.  Harry was quick to undo Eggsy’s belt and jerk it off, undoing the button and zip on Eggsy’s jeans and pushing them down around his thighs. 

Eggsy wasn’t wearing pants.  _Christ._  

Harry stroked Eggsy’s cock, savoring the hard heat of it underneath his fingers.  He'd still had nowhere near enough of just this, just touching Eggsy, just having him there to touch. 

Eggsy made a noise against Harry’s lips and suddenly his fingers were tangling with Harry’s, steering them.  Past his cock, past his balls, and back to his hole. 

Harry’s mouth was dry, or at least it would have been if Eggsy's tongue hadn’t pushed between his lips at exactly the same moment.  Harry tasted him, letting his fingers play where Eggsy had put them obediently.  This they hadn’t done, not yet.  Harry groaned- such as he could groan with his mouth so deliciously occupied.  Two of his fingers slid into Eggsy’s hole, meeting almost no resistance at all- only slickness and heat.       

Eggsy broke the kiss with a breathless half laugh, half gasp.  Harry entertained a brief- silly- idea that Eggsy had… different biology, and then Eggsy said, “I been waiting for this, Harry,” and a more obvious explanation presented itself.

Eggsy had taken a very long shower earlier.  Harry thought of the long showers Eggsy regularly took, since he was so often above the shop with Harry, and so often... sticky as well.  Suddenly Harry couldn’t _stop_ thinking about Eggsy in there, touching himself.  Prepping himself just in case the need arose.  Harry doubted he would be able to stop thinking about it while Eggsy showered ever again.  “Oh,” he murmured.

“Oh is right,” Eggsy said, pushing back against Harry’s touch.  Harry obligingly pressed those two fingers in deep.  Eggsy moaned.  “Fuck _me_.”      

“Do you mean that as an expression-” Harry scissored his fingers- “or a direction?”

“Both,” Eggsy said, and bit Harry’s lower lip. 

Harry growled and backed Eggsy up until he collided with the desk and spilled out across it.  They were undoubtedly about to muss important papers irretrievably- but Harry realized he couldn’t care less.   

Eggsy’s hands went up to brush against Harry’s sides, and for a moment Harry just looked down at him, hands flat on the crinkling papers.  There might have been nothing whatsoever angelic about Eggsy- but he certainly looked like an angel, lying there.  Harry’s tongue flickered out over his lips- and he swallowed down anything else he might have said when he caught Eggsy’s eyes following the gesture. 

What Eggsy so clearly wanted, Eggsy got. 

Harry bent and kissed him, tongue flicking in between his parted lips almost immediately.  Eggsy made a pleased sound and kissed him back right away.  His hands snaked underneath Harry’s jacket, up his torso and then around his back. 

Eggsy made another noise, this one a question, and Harry backed off enough to let Eggsy tug his jacket off and cast it aside.  Harry thought, absently, that it would probably wrinkle- and then they were kissing again and Harry couldn’t care less about wrinkles, or about anything that didn’t involve more of Eggsy _right this minute_.    

He let his hands work down, slipping under the hem of Eggsy’s t-shirt and touching his skin.  Oh, he was as warm as Harry had remembered him being, and he felt just as good.  Harry broke the kiss to pull Eggsy’s shirt over his head and throw it in the same direction his jacket had gone. 

“You are _so_ …” Harry started as he got his first look at Eggsy’s bare skin.  Suddenly he didn't have the breath to finish. 

“So what?” Eggsy asked, breathless as Harry bent and started kissing his chest. 

Harry worked on a nipple, enjoying how Eggsy tasted and how the tender flesh curled up tight almost immediately under his mouth.  Harry wanted to let his hand slip back down, wanted to have his fingers inside Eggsy again- and he wanted that even more when Eggsy briefly hooked a leg around his hips, showing off just how flexible he was and reinforcing just where he intended this to go- but he also wanted to take his time. 

“So _what_ , Harry?” Eggsy asked again, only the hitches in his breath letting Harry knew exactly what effect he was having on Eggsy as he kissed further down his chest.  “I’m a spectacular lay, you can say it.”

“Hush,” Harry said, biting down gently on the patch of skin most readily available to him- there, right underneath Eggsy's ribcage.  Hadn’t he thought not long ago that he particularly enjoyed it when Eggsy used that mouth of his to speak?  Perhaps he had been wrong about that one.

More out of curiosity than anything, Harry let his palm drag up Eggsy’s chest, skidding across his throat and up to his face.  He cupped Eggsy’s cheek and looked up at him, chin resting on the plane of Eggsy's stomach. 

“Why don’t you let me see about that, hmm?” he said, his thumb sliding across the plush curve of Eggsy's lower lip.  

Eggsy opened his mouth, but before he could answer Harry pushed the digit inside.  Eggsy smiled a little, such as he could, and then _sucked_.  His teasing look melted away almost immediately, transforming into one of absolute contentment as his tongue swirled across the pad of Harry’s thumb.

 _Beautiful_.  With Eggsy’s responses so reduced to muffled moans and light sucks, Harry went back to what he had been doing- kissing a trail down to Eggsy’s cock.  He took his time when he got about to that level, nibbling around Eggsy’s faintly protruding hipbones and his well-muscled thighs, making Eggsy wait for it.       

Eggsy gave a keen and suckled at Harry’s thumb.  Harry decided he had the right idea. 

Harry let his breath fan out across Eggsy's cock as he opened the desk drawer one-handed.  Eggsy had taken to stowing condoms and lube in there- Harry supposed for exactly this situation.  He opened one package and sucked in a breath before sliding the condom on with his mouth.  He had to take his time, easing down Eggsy’s cock and relaxing his throat around it.  He had once been better at this trick than he was now, but it seemed impressive enough- impressive enough, at least, that Eggsy didn’t complain about the presence of the condom at all. 

Eggsy just made these muffled and breathless noises, staring down at him. 

Harry smirked around his mouthful. 

Eggsy’s head rolled back and his body arched up into Harry’s mouth, pushing his cock further down Harry’s throat.  Harry still loved doing this, still loved how Eggsy choked off his senses.  In that moment Harry forgot about everything that wasn't the sensation of a cock heavy on his tongue and sliding down to test his gag reflex, the ache in his jaw and in his lungs. 

His thumb slipped from between Eggsy's lips, and Eggsy _whined_.  "Harry-" he started, then gave a satisfied sigh when Harry took two fingers and pushed them into his mouth. 

Harry sucked Eggsy for a bit longer, only dimly aware of Eggsy doing the same thing to his fingers, and then he pulled off gently.  He licked up and down the length of Eggsy’s cock once, twice, three times- and then he slid his spit-slick fingers out of Eggsy’s mouth.  Before Eggsy could protest, Harry reached between his legs and pressed those fingers into his hole.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Eggsy said, pushing back into Harry’s touch.  “Harry- give me- please-”

Eggsy was splayed out on three of his fingers- _beautiful_ \- and Harry shifted enough to lift his left hand- the one he had been bracing on the desk- and give Eggsy _those_ fingers to suck on for a while.  He remembered how eager Eggsy had been to get Harry in his mouth the first time, how much he clearly loved sucking on Harry's fingers now.  He suspected that Eggsy would really take to the 69 position. 

Harry filed that thought away for later consideration.  For now he wanted to give _this_ all the attention it deserved.

He took his time, fucking Eggsy’s mouth and arse relentlessly with his fingers.  He bent to suck Eggsy's cock as well, bringing him closer and closer to the edge with gentle pressure.  When the sounds Eggsy was making become too urgent to ignore, Harry slid his fingers from between his lips again.

“Stop teasing me,” Eggsy said breathlessly.  “ _Harry_ -”     

He didn’t finish, but he didn’t have to.  “Yes,” Harry said, moving to free up both hands. 

Eggsy sobbed softly when his arse was left empty, and he watched Harry undo his trousers and get his cock out with keen eyes. 

"Yes," Harry kept saying.  "Yes, all right-”

“All _right_?” Eggsy choked out as he stared at Harry with wide, dark eyes.  “If it’s such an _imposition_ -”

For a heartbeat- perhaps two- all Harry could do stare at him.  At his bare chest, his debauched sprawl, his cock still hard and his still legs spread as wide as his jeans- pulled down not quite over his knees- would accommodate.  "Nonsense," Harry breathed. 

He stretched out over Eggsy, cupping his neck and kissing him hard to shut him up. 

Harry thought about not undressing Eggsy the rest of the way.  He thought about just turning him over, leaving him pinned by his own clothes and fucking him from behind.  The thought made his neglected cock twitch- but he found he couldn't bear to lose the easy access to Eggsy's lips or the sight of his face. 

He shucked Eggsy's jeans and pants in a single efficient move, casting them aside and settling between Eggsy's legs to kiss him again.  He wondered if he was in such a rush now because Eggsy was being so difficult, or because he wanted to be inside him immediately. 

 _Both_ , Harry thought as he slid on another condom and slicked himself. 

He pushed inside Eggsy with a groan.  Eggsy was so tight, and he gave so sweetly, and the sounds he made against Harry’s mouth were pure perfection.

Harry started fucking into Eggsy right away.  He couldn't help it; Eggsy was incredibly hot and slick.  He kept kissing Eggsy, working sloppily down from his lips to his jaw to his throat, coupling every thrust with a rough kiss.  

"Oh," Eggsy breathed as Harry worked into him.  He wrapped a leg around Harry's hip once more.  "Fuck yeah, that's good."

He wasn't wrong.  He felt _so_ good, in fact, that Harry couldn't hold back anymore.  He let Eggsy sprawl out on the desk, backing off just enough to really fuck the hell out of him, gripping his thigh.

“Fuck,” Eggsy said, lifting his head weakly. 

Harry followed his gaze to the place where their bodies met.  Eggsy looked as if he had never seen anything like it. Harry certainly hadn’t; Eggsy was always beautiful, but he looked more beautiful than ever taking Harry’s cock like this.  The contrast between all that naked skin and Harry’s barely-rumpled suit was _stunning_. 

As he watched himself working in and out of Eggsy's body, Harry almost came just like that.  He bent with a groan and shut his eyes tightly, burying his face in Eggsy's collarbone.  Even so, Harry knew then that he wouldn't last anywhere near as long as he had hoped to.      

Eggsy was so responsive as Harry moved in him- so needy-sounding and sweet as a stream of praise and vulgarity fell from his lips- that Harry could think of only one thing that would make it better. The fingers of his right hand still dug into Eggsy's thigh, but he lifted the left and pushed two fingers into Eggsy's mouth.  He shoved deep at the same time- and he did come then, long and hard.  

When it was over Harry slumped breathlessly.  He landed as much against the desk as possible, since a gentleman simply didn’t collapse on top of the person he had just come inside.  He shifted a little and gripped himself by the base.  Eggsy made a soft sound of protest as Harry slipped from him.

Harry let his fingers fall from between Eggsy’s lips.

"What did I tell you?” Eggsy said as Harry took of the condom and discarded it with a grimace.  “I’m an amazing lay.”

His breath was coming in stuttering stops now, his eyes were as dark as Harry had ever seen them, and his voice was as rough as sandpaper.  It rather belied the teasing, casual tone he was clearly going for.  Still.  Harry put a hand on Eggsy, wrapping fingers around his cock.  “I should just leave you like this,” he said, playing at the head with his thumb.  “Irritating thing.”

Eggsy laughed weakly, hips working up into Harry’s touch.  “You wouldn’t do that.  Wouldn’t be polite.”

"No,” Harry agreed.  He had enjoyed taking Eggsy apart a great deal- there was no point in denying it- but he didn’t think he would enjoy leaving him that way, and Eggsy was right.  It simply wouldn’t be polite. 

He shifted positions a little again, balancing himself on his elbow so he could stroke Eggsy with more intent.  Papers crinkled underneath him.  He had a feeling he would regret the mess later, but he slid the condom off Eggsy’s cock to touch him bare. 

He gripped Eggsy tightly.  He had figured out by now that Eggsy liked it a bit rough, but his cock was already leaking so much that the passage of Harry’s fingers up and down his length was quite smooth. 

Harry looked down at Eggsy with helpless affection- taking in the sight of his flushed face and slack mouth, and the reddish-purple flush of his cockhead pushing up from within Harry’s fist. 

“You are so lovely,” Harry said quietly.  “That was what I was going to say before: you are so lovely.”     

“Harry,” Eggsy whispered, voice weakening, eyes fluttering open and closed again in a gratifying manner. 

Harry caught his lips and kissed him for a while, open-mouthed and sloppy, before he backed off enough to push his fingers between Eggsy’s lips again. 

Eggsy sucked hungrily as Harry worked them in and out of his mouth in time with each stroke. 

It didn't take many more before Eggsy was coming, groaning around Harry’s fingers and spurting across Harry’s hand and his own stomach- mostly those two, anyway.  He caught the papers on the desk and Harry’s suit a little too- but as Harry stroked him through the aftershocks, kissing his hair and the side of his face, he didn't mind. 

Eggsy still sucked at Harry's fingers wetly, like he wasn’t even doing it on purpose anymore, like he had forgotten how to stop.  He livened, at last, just before Harry could worry that he’d broken him. 

“All right?” Harry asked, easing his fingers out of Eggsy’s mouth so he could answer. 

Eggsy didn't speak.  He made a strangled noise and just sort of… grabbed for Harry, who decided that trying to cuddle over the desk would be ridiculous. 

He half-carried, half-tugged Eggsy over to the couch and then pressed up against his side, keeping close to him.  Harry's suit was sticky and sweaty and it would be hell to clean, but for now Eggsy was so pliant and quiet against him that Harry intended to enjoy it.  Though he had no doubt about how long the speechlessness would last- not long- he couldn’t help but take pride in having reduced Eggsy to incoherence at long last, and with so small a thing.

Eggsy proved Harry right by speaking only a moment or so later, but Harry was- he had to admit- surprised by what he said: “I can stay tonight, right?”

He had spent the night in the shop before- and the way he asked before insinuating himself seemed... suggestive.  Harry wasn't sure, though, what exactly it suggested.  "If you like," he said at last.

Eggsy curled up against him with a happy hum.   


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Not long after that, Harry heard a knock at the upstairs door. It opened, and Eggsy’s voice called down, “Harry? Can I talk to you?”_
> 
> _Given his irrepressible nature, Harry had expected keeping Eggsy out of his inner sanctum to be much trickier than it had turned out to be. Actually, Eggsy was very good about respecting his privacy and- as far as he could tell- that of everyone else as well. “You can come down,” Harry called back. There was nothing here to hide from him anymore._
> 
> _“Oooh,” Eggsy said, bounding down the stairs without delay. “Just when I was starting to get jealous.”_

Eggsy recommended three possible new employees to Harry at the beginning of the following week- which was lucky because the shop got more and more business by the day.  Harry had to admit that he had been a little worried- after how Chester King had behaved- that the loss of his patronage would later come back to haunt them.  However, if anything, it seemed as though a cloud had lifted.

“These are good people, aren’t they?” Harry asked as he looked over the CVs that Eggsy had produced for him. 

It wasn’t the fact all three had criminal records that gave Harry pause, though they did.  Jamal and Ryan- who appeared to be a matched set as far as both job applications and felonies were concerned- had burglary _and_ drug dealing under their belts.  The man that called himself Merlin- who was apparently a mathematical genius- had a history of white collar crime, which Harry supposed might explain why he remembered him as the croupier from the casino they visited a few weeks back.  Harry liked to think of himself as an open-minded sort of fellow, and he didn’t believe it ought to be impossible for a man with a rap sheet to turn his life around- but he did wonder what he was getting into (especially with Merlin, since Eggsy had suggested that he take over the books). 

“Are they _honest_ people, I mean?” Harry clarified between bites of takeaway.

Eggsy was lounging beside him on the couch, grinning.  " _Yeah_ , Harry," he said as he selected from the array of cartons on the table beside the couch and started to eat as well.  “Would I steer you wrong?”

Eggsy had yet to do so, but Harry wasn’t sure if that properly answered his question.  All the same, Eggsy had promised to turn Harry’s life around- convincing him to hire people who would later rob him blind was hardly in keeping with that promise, and Harry did believe Eggsy wouldn't break it.  He even believed Eggsy _couldn't_ \- because Eggsy really was a demon, Harry was sure of that now. 

He thought one day when it fully sank in he might end up gibbering in a corner over that, but for the time being he was going to give Eggsy the benefit of the doubt after all.

Harry shrugged and went back to his dinner.

That evening, he put everything into motion to hire the men Eggsy had suggested.  Over the next few days, he had no cause to regret it.  Merlin was clever and sharp tongued, but he got the job done and pinched pennies so Harry didn’t have to; Jamal and Ryan were fast learners, and personable besides, and Harry liked working with them.

Between the three of them and Eggsy- who was in the shop almost 24/7 by then- Harry was able to do what he actually wanted to do, what he had always wanted to do: make fine suits for people.

That wasn’t to say that Harry didn’t still talk to customers now and then, some more than others.  He even did fittings personally from time to time, and- like his uncle, he supposed- he had favorites.  He enjoyed knowing how little his uncle would have approved of them. 

“What’s that?” Roxy asked one afternoon.

Roxy, Percival Morton’s niece, was beyond doubt one such favorite.  So much so, in fact, that when she expressed an interest in how the work was done Harry had taken her downstairs to his workshop and demonstrated.  

She (Harry had asked her about pronouns- he wasn’t as up on that sort of thing as he would have liked to be, but he was trying to learn- and Roxy had said she was a she, just a she who happened to like wearing a nice suit now and then) was looking at a suit, one more or less finished except for any minor alterations which might be necessary after the recipient had tried it on. 

“What does it look like?” Harry asked her- half a joke, half a test.

“It looks like a single-breasted double-button suit jacket,” Roxy told him.  She didn’t smile often, at least not with teeth, but her whole face had a way of showing her amusement or excitement.  It was doing so now.  “No waistcoat.  The cut isn't your usual style.”

Harry made a face.  “I can get out of my comfort zone for a customer.”

“But this isn’t for a customer, is it?” Roxy asked.  She looked very sure of herself.  “It’s for Eggsy.”

They had met a few times, and- interestingly enough- been fast friends.  Harry was a little worried about what the two of them talked about in such hushed tones while he was dealing with her uncle or his husband, but he supposed there was nothing to be done about it.  Roxy was a grown woman and a clever one besides, and if Eggsy had been negotiating for her soul while Harry’s back was turned he had seen no sign of it. 

At any rate, it was her decision if she did make a deal with Eggsy.  Willfully misleading people did indeed seem not to be Eggsy’s style, and Harry had certainly been getting an excellent return out of his own investment.  

“Yes.  Yes, it is,” Harry admitted.  “Think he’ll like it?”

“Like it?”  Roxy snorted, and Harry thought about feeling bad for perhaps a quarter of a second before she added, “I think he’ll _love_ it.”

“Good,” Harry said, warmth spreading out in his gut.  He decided to change the subject before the feeling could grow to unmanageable levels.  “What about you?”  Roxy was wearing one of his own creations, a blazer and vest combination which suited her admirably. 

“Oh- me too,” she assured him.  Harry honestly didn’t know if she meant her own outfit, the one for Eggsy, or both.  Roxy glanced at the clock by the wall.  “I’d better go, though,” she said.  “I’ve got a date, actually.”

“Then you had best not be late,” Harry replied.

Roxy’s mouth finally broke into a full grin, and she headed up the stairs. 

Not long after that, Harry heard a knock at the upstairs door.  It opened, and Eggsy’s voice called down, “Harry?  Can I talk to you?”

Given his irrepressible nature, Harry had expected keeping Eggsy out of his inner sanctum to be much trickier than it had turned out to be.  Actually, Eggsy was very good about respecting his privacy and- as far as he could tell- that of everyone else as well.  “You can come down,” Harry called back.  There was nothing here to hide from him anymore. 

“Oooh,” Eggsy said, bounding down the stairs without delay.  “Just when I was starting to get jealous.”

“Of my workshop?”

“Of Roxy, Harry,” Eggsy replied with a roll of his eyes.  He stepped into the middle of the room, looking around at the tables and tools and bolts of cloth with fascination.

Harry blinked.  “Why of Roxy?”  He didn’t see Roxy at all in a romantic light, and even if he had... he would hardly take another lover.  Sometimes he didn’t know where he got the stamina to handle Eggsy.  Supernatural influence, possibly.

“’Cos she got to see what you been working on.”

Because it wasn’t an order, Harry had had to keep Eggsy’s suit on the back-burner, and it had sometimes cut into his free time.  Harry didn’t mind that- he found the work relaxing- but of course Eggsy would have been curious, and perhaps even concerned, about what exactly had Harry so occupied of late.  “Do you want to know so terribly?” Harry teased, all the same.

“Gagging for it,” Eggsy replied with a completely straight face.

“Cheek.”  Harry swatted Eggsy’s arse as he passed by in his exploration of the room.  “I’ve no reason to hide it now,” Harry said.  He jerked his chin toward the suit Roxy had asked him about.  Eggsy’s suit.

There was a light in Eggsy’s eyes like Roxy’s as he looked at the suit, reached out and let his fingers brush reverently over it.  It was good work, if Harry said so himself.  Unlike Roxy, Eggsy didn’t seem so sure who Harry had made it for.  “Don’t remember taking an order like this one.”

“Because we didn’t,” Harry said.  “It’s been… a side project.”

“Who for?”

“Who do you think?” Harry replied.  He had never doubted that it would be just right for Eggsy, but Roxy had only underscored as much when she knew who Harry intended it for straight away.  “Go and try it on.”

Eggsy grinned.  His hands went to his shirt, already barring a whisper of skin as he lifted it.

Harry swatted him again.  “Not _here_.  Upstairs in the fitting room.  I’ll come and take a look once you’re dressed.”

Eggsy’s eyes glittered with amusement.  “You make it sound like you ain’t seen me in the altogether already, Harry.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” Harry replied.

Eggsy _laughed_ , but he gathered up the suit and carried it up the stairs with him amiably enough.  Harry lingered in his workshop for a bit, taking some final notes about Roxy’s order and preparing himself mentally for the sight of Eggsy wearing a suit Harry had made for him.  Once he was ready, he headed upstairs to the main floor. 

The first thing Harry noticed was that Jamal and Ryan had made themselves scarce.  It was just as well; they could listen for customers from one of back rooms as easily as from out in the shop. 

The second thing Harry noticed was that the door to the fitting room was open.  Eggsy was inside, dressed already and fiddling with his cuffs.  Harry leaned his shoulder against the wall and allowed himself to enjoy the view.

The suit looked... well, it looked exactly the way Harry had designed it to.  Smooth and smart and just a tiny bit racy.  The shade brought out the sea glass color of Eggsy’s eyes and diminished that yellow tint that sometimes caught them.  The cut of it hugged every hard line and unexpected curve of his body, and the length of the jacket really drew the eye to his arse. 

Harry let his eyes linger there- just to make sure everything was in order, of course.

He knew Eggsy wouldn't be fooled by that explanation even if he shared it.  Almost the moment Harry arrived he had stopped looking at his own reflection and started watching Harry's instead.  He wiggled his eyebrows- and his bum.

Harry fought a smile.  “You’re meant to be telling me what you think,” he said.

“I think I look great,” Eggsy said with a casual certainty that didn't sit right on his tongue.  “I’m a lot more interested in how you think I look.”

"You look stunning," Harry said honestly.  There were times when Harry wondered how much of Eggsy’s arrogant cheek was actually a charade carefully designed to mask a well of insecurity.  When Harry remembered how Eggsy had come undone when Harry told him he was lovely- like he had never heard it before, or perhaps simply never believed it- and thought maybe he wasn't so sure of himself after all.   

Eggsy puffed up, and just then Harry didn’t care whether or not he had only made Eggsy more insufferable. 

The praise was for Harry as much as for him, after all.  The suit would need a tiny bit of alteration around the waist and the shoulders, since Harry had never fitted Eggsy properly- but in fact it was almost perfect.

As if he had read Harry’s mind, Eggsy said, “How’d you pull this off, Harry?  You never took my measurements.”

“Didn’t I?”

“I would remember,” Eggsy said with a leer.

Harry laughed.  He felt himself flush a little; he had no doubt that Eggsy was right about that- and he had no doubt of what Eggsy would have done with him and to him if he had ever brought him here to actually take his measurements.  He made his way into the fitting room.  “In the usual way, you’re right.  I never did.” 

Eggsy’s eyes sparked with heat.  “Took the measure of me by eye, then?”

“Since the moment I first saw you,” Harry said.  He settled against Eggsy’s back, letting light hands come to rest on Eggsy’s waist.  He could feel his cock hardening a little against his thigh.  “And... by hand, since then.”

Eggsy actually shuddered. 

“You are… absolutely magnificent in this,” Harry said quietly, watching Eggsy's face in the mirror. 

Eggsy _sparkled_.  “Think I’ll sell the merchandise?”

That was rather why Harry had hoped Eggsy would think he had made the suit for him, but he still said, “Among other things.  I like seeing my work on you.”  For a second, admitting it didn’t seem so hard.  But then Eggsy’s eyes snapped up, meeting his in the mirror, and it seemed very hard indeed.  Harry cleared his throat.  “You would turn a few heads if you returned to that casino in this.” 

Eggsy only hummed in agreement, the intense look in his eyes softening but not cooling. 

Harry added, “I notice you haven’t gone back.  Is it because you’re avoiding Charlie?”  

“Nah,” Eggsy said, waving Harry off.  “I doubt he’ll go back.”  He gave Harry a wicked smile.  “Need me to win some more money for you?” 

“No, no.  We’re quite all right for the moment.  I was only wondering.”

“I never did it for fun, you know.”  Eggsy's grin twisted into a thoughtful frown.  “And even if I did- what heads do I need to turn, huh?"  He nudged Harry with an elbow.  "Caught your eye, didn’t I?”

Harry was amused to hear Eggsy say such a thing without an audience, and really quite flattered.  “Indeed you did,” he agreed. 

“Why don’t you show me, huh?” Eggsy said.  He turned around and took Harry by the lapels.  “Why don’t you show me just how magnificent you think I look?”  His predatory expression made his meaning very clear; the pressure of his cock against Harry’s hip made it doubly so.  "You know you want to."

Of course Harry wanted to; he fancied they both did.  “The shop's open," Harry protested.  He had shut the dressing door behind them, but that suddenly seemed so flimsy.  

Eggsy pressed closer.  "Then you can keep me quiet."

"You know what a frightful mess it makes,” Harry tried.  Their encounter over the desk had ensured they both did, and this suit was new- but he did so want to see Eggsy overcome with pleasure wearing it.  _Lord._ Harry was doing a poor job of talking _himself_ out of this, let alone Eggsy. 

And Eggsy just sidled closer, smirking like he knew exactly what Harry was thinking.

It occurred to Harry that at least one of them had always been half-dressed when they had sex.  He wasn’t sure whose fetish that was.  Either way, he doubted this would be the last time they indulged.  If they indulged this time, that was.  Harry said, "I would mind less if you could just magic the mess away.”

“I don’t do _magic_ ,” Eggsy sniffed.

“Sometimes I wonder if you ever do anything supernatural at all,” Harry remarked.  Oh, he had noticed plenty of little things- but beyond the way Eggsy's eyes lit from time to time there had been nothing unavoidable.  Nothing... inarguable.  Most of it Harry just knew, or thought he knew, without completely understanding why.  “The dry cleaning bill is on you.”

“Sure,” Eggsy said agreeably.  He turned in Harry's grip and leaned back a little, dragging his eyes up and down Harry's body in mirror at the same time.

Harry found himself doing the same without thinking, and with his second look at Eggsy in that suit Harry was lost. 

He pushed Eggsy forward. 

*   *   *

Harry didn't have it in him to regret the encounter in the dressing room after the fact.  He turned the memory of it over and over in his mind later on: the warmth of Eggsy trapped between him and the mirror, the gorgeous sight of Eggsy in that suit as Harry took him in hand and took him _apart_ , the surprisingly titillating knowledge that though his fingers stopped Eggsy's mouth Jamal and Ryan were God- and perhaps the devil- only knew where and a customer could walk into the shop at any moment. 

Still, Harry wasn't a great believer in public displays of affection- let alone public displays of _this_ \- so he decided it would be a onetime indiscretion. 

This resolution lasted only three days, at which point they could have been found- and quite possibly almost _were_ found- finally trying that 69 in Harry’s workshop in the middle of the afternoon.  Harry had thought Eggsy would like it- but the heat and softness of Eggsy's mouth around him, the ache of his own lips and jaw, the heaviness of Eggsy's cock in his throat... Harry _loved_ it.

And it was safe to say that Harry loved it too- three days after _that_ \- when Eggsy insisted that he needed to practice taking a man’s measurements, and ended a performance that was actually text perfect by sucking Harry off.  Harry couldn't deny that the touch of Eggsy's mouth was even better when he could look over at the mirror and see Eggsy there on his knees, lips stretched wide as he played Harry like an instrument. 

It was in this fashion- more or less- that fall made its way toward winter.  It wasn't just sex, though.  If it had been, Harry wouldn’t be beginning to worry- as he was, of late- about what would happen when he went from liking Eggsy to something _more_.

But unfortunately there was already more, because _Eggsy_ was more.  More than a crooked grin, more than a dirty mind, more than an accommodating body. 

There was his sense of humor and surprising bouts of sweetness.  There was his way of smiling at Harry over a carton of takeaway that looked like something beyond flirtation and felt- deep in Harry's chest- like something beyond affection.  There was his skill and enthusiasm for Harry's business- the direct result, Harry believed, of a desire to be to good at the job Harry loved. 

There was the way he slept next to Harry on the futon- and had slept with him every night since the time he asked to stay- as if there was nowhere else in the world he wanted to be.

And Harry didn't know what to do with that in particular- not least because he slept so well when Eggsy was with him that he had almost forgotten what it was like not to. 

One night, after a cold day that stretched into a colder evening, Harry dreamed of things he had almost convinced himself would leave him alone now.  Of desert heat and- worse still- desert cold.  Of sand and smoke and the taste of terror on his tongue. 

Harry woke shivering and shaking, drenched in sweat.  He had been used to that before meeting Eggsy.  He couldn't believe that a month or two was all it took for it to surprise him again.  He couldn't tell if it was better or worse, to wake up that way now with a smaller body pressed so snugly against his own.     

He kept as still as he could, not wanting to wake Eggsy, but he heard a sleepy murmur and knew that he had failed. 

“Harry?” Eggsy said thickly.  “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” Harry replied, trying to breathe evenly.  “Go back to sleep.”

Eggsy only sounded more awake the second time he spoke.  “You sure?” he asked.  “Because it don’t feel like nothing.”  He was touching Harry, suddenly. His fingers were wrapped around Harry's wrist, taking his pulse- and those fingers should have felt like manacles after the dream Harry had just had, but actually they felt… nice.  Grounding.

“Just a bad dream,” Harry said, softening.  This... this was what worried him most of all.  How Eggsy opened him up and made him like it.  “That’s all.”

In the faint light streaming in through the window, Harry could only just make out Eggsy’s face as he settled back down against his chest, but the look he could see was worried.  “About when you were a soldier?”

“Sort of,” Harry admitted.  He wasn’t sure he should tell Eggsy about this after he had done such a good job of blocking it out- but he wasn’t sure he could lie here after what just happened and _not_ tell him either.  “I was… captured.  Briefly.”  Harry let out a breath.  "Of course, it didn't feel brief at the time."

"Were you... tortured?"  Harry could tell that Eggsy was trying to keep any reaction out of his voice- but he was failing.  He was hurting- _for_ Harry. 

“No.”  Harry laughed wryly.  There were times when he thought he would have preferred that.  Possibly that was silly of him.  “No, they were... they were testing a machine.  This... noise would come out of it that could... manipulate brainwaves.  It wasn’t as sophisticated as mind control, but it could… make you feel things.  I escaped before too long- and I had blacked out for much of it- but I still remember how it felt to find myself doing things without my own permission.”

“That’s why it was so important to you to know I wasn’t possessing someone.  Or manipulating people's thoughts.”

"Yes.  I suppose so.”  Harry thought there was- or had been at the time- other things about Eggsy that had bothered him because of what happened.  Most of them didn't bother him anymore.  He certainly no longer felt like he hadn't been himself since he met Eggsy- he thought he had actually just been easier in who he already was.  But there was... there was one thing.  What had that been?

“Well, I’m not,” Eggsy said.  “And you’re home now.”

“That’s what I keep telling myself.  You know... I got through so much of what happened back then thinking about this place.  About the shop and the tame, ordinary little life I could build around it.  When I came back and found it in ruins, I suppose I went a bit…”

“Mental?”

Harry laughed softly.  “If that’s what you want to call it.”

“You went on a bender and decided that selling your soul was a perfectly reasonable idea.  Yeah, Harry, that’s what I want to call it.”

Harry laughed again, breathing easier now.  There was something knocking now, at the farthest corner of his mind, but Harry ignored it.  He needed to get _this_ out first, like drawing poison from a wound.  Pretending it didn't still effect him obviously wasn't working.  “I really let myself believe that saving my shop would fix everything- but now I’m here and… and _it’s_ here with me, isn’t it?”

“I guess so,” Eggsy whispered.  “But _I’m_ here too.”   He lifted a hand and ran a gentle fingertip down the bridge of Harry’s nose.  “And I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”

Harry nodded, too overcome with _belief_ to speak. 

"I..." Eggsy started after lying there quietly for a long moment.  "I think what you mean."

"Do you?" Harry asked without sarcasm.  He genuinely wanted to know.

Eggsy contemplated what to say next for what seemed- to Harry- an unusually long time.  "Hell is-" he hesitated still- "well, it's a really shitty place, Harry."

"I got that impression from how you behaved the last time you went back there."

"Yeah." Eggsy laughed softly.  "I guess you probably did.  Anyway, it's why so many of us work at the club, buy souls.  Depending on who you're dealing with that can be pretty shitty too- but it's better than going back."  Eggsy nudged Harry's forehead with his.  "Anyway, what I was trying to say is I know how that stuff follows you.  It don't mean... that the stuff is you."

Harry nodded.  He suspected that Eggsy was trying to convince himself of that as much as Harry.  "Well," he said.  "I'm here for you too, you know.  For as long as I can be, anyway."  He liked the idea that he could shield Eggsy from certain things as well. 

Eggsy's eyes were shining- and not with humor or unnatural light, not this time, but with what might have been unshed tears.  "Yeah, Harry," he said.

Harry looked at Eggsy, and the knocking thing finally found its way in for a moment.  The club.  All the things he couldn't remember.  He wanted answers, still, and he had let himself completely forget that he did.  But... The way Eggsy was looking back at him right now, Harry was sure that he would explain if he could.  

Harry fell asleep again before he could find the words to ask. 

And- whether Eggsy was using his powers to keep the nightmares at bay or not- he slept easily the rest of the night.   

*   *   *

"Where _is_ Eggsy?" Harry asked Merlin one day. 

It had been a slow afternoon, which- now that business was good and things were on a relatively even keel- was actually rather relaxing.  Merlin had just come downstairs to Harry's workshop to brief him on the state of their finances- which were excellent- and Harry wanted to tell Eggsy the good news.  

Merlin shrugged.  "I haven't seen the lad."

Harry frowned and considered going looking for him.  Perhaps he would later on, but since he had Merlin alone he supposed he might as well ease his curiosity on another subject.  "May I ask you something?" 

Ever since the conversation he had had with Eggsy after that nightmare, Harry had been wondering about Eggsy's life.  About his other clients and what some of them had been like.  Harry hadn't yet figured out how to ask Eggsy about any of it.

He knew there was something else he had wanted to ask Eggsy that night, but he couldn't remember what it was, so he contemplated this instead.  How did Eggsy know Merlin, for instance?  He wondered about Jamal and Ryan too- but it was Merlin he was most curious about, because of the casino.  Was that how Eggsy knew him?  Or had the presence of someone he already knew at one of the roulette tables been purely coincidental?  Did Eggsy have a personal relationship with someone _everywhere_?

Eggsy must have done so much before Harry came into his life- and the more Harry got to know Eggsy, the more he _wanted_ to know him.  He had told Eggsy things, by now, that he had never told another living soul- but that openness didn't entirely go both ways.  One part of Harry thought that was right, thought that was natural- thought that if he did any digging he was almost guaranteed not to like what he found.  Another part didn't care. 

When Merlin nodded his assent, Harry asked, "How exactly do you know Eggsy?"

Merlin looked thoughtful.  He tucked his clipboard under his arm and leaned against the doorway.  "He hired me some years ago.  I'd had... legal troubles, as you're aware, and it was a little difficult to find anyone who would trust me with their money- so I was willing but a little suspicious of his motives.  He needed help putting a great deal of money aside for his family, making sure it was all above board.  I assume he just wanted someone who wouldn't ask him where it came from, which- with Eggsy- well... You can imagine most people would."

Harry could indeed imagine- but he was too caught up on something else Merlin had said to mention as much.  "His _family_?"

Merlin blinked, clearly thrown by Harry's sharp tone.  "Well, I suppose I just assumed they were his family.  A single woman and her child.  That was... almost seventeen years ago now.  We've kept in touch.  Since I work in casinos off and on- I find it keeps me sharp- he had asked me to do a few shifts and look into your uncle's visits to one.  I was interested in your shop, so later when you talked about hiring he thought of me." 

Harry had the explanation he'd wanted, but he was too caught up in other things to fully appreciate it. 

He found it difficult to believe that Eggsy had had a girlfriend- a _wife_ , even- and then abandoned her after she got a pregnant.  The possible logistics of it aside- _could_ demons have children with humans?  What sort of creatures did those children grow into?- Harry just couldn't imagine Eggsy having a family that he put money aside for but never saw.  Harry didn't know everything there was to know about Eggsy- how could he?- but he was sure that that wasn't like him.  More likely they had been clients of his. 

Which made Harry realize something else: " _Seventeen_ _years?_ Then you must know-"

"That he isn't strictly human?  Yes.  I know.  I try to keep my nose out of it."

"That's probably wise," Harry murmured.  _He_ should keep his nose out of _this_.  That family Merlin mentioned- whoever they were to Eggsy- was none of his business.   

"If that's all," Merlin said, "I have a few things that need my attention."

"Yes, of course," Harry said.

He felt wrong-footed after that conversation, and he wondered if he should go looking for Eggsy after all.  But while he had gone longer than this without seeing Eggsy- Eggsy had been in the shop that morning, after all- it was usually because one or both of them was busy with other things.  Eggsy hadn't said anything about what he was up to today. 

And there was something else- something a small but insistent part of Harry determinedly pointed out.  That Eggsy had more than done what he had promised to do when Harry made his deal, and that someday he would leave.  Perhaps someday was today. 

Harry wanted- needed- to silence that part, so he went downstairs to the shop, looking for Jamal and Ryan. 

He found them near the front of the shop, fiddling with the displays and talking quietly- and, Harry thought, worriedly- to each other. 

"Do you two know where Eggsy is?" Harry asked.

They looked at Harry for a second, then at each other.  This was their habit whenever Harry asked a question to which the answer was not readily obvious.  "He asked us not to tell you," Ryan said. 

"I see," Harry said. 

Jamal gave Ryan a look.  "But maybe we should anyway."

Harry considered that.  Eggsy had a right to his secrets; he didn't owe Harry anything- it was all the other way around.  And Harry didn't want either of the boys to get into trouble with their friend for him.  "Are you sure?" he asked finally. 

They nodded unhappily. 

"We're a little worried about him," Ryan admitted. 

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"This guy showed up," Jamal said.

"His name's Dean," Ryan chimed in.  "Him and Eggsy had some dealings a year or two ago.  And he was in a _really_ bad mood when he showed up."

"A breaking stuff mood," Jamal added.  "Eggsy convinced him to meet him someplace else, but that was a while ago."

"We would've said something sooner, but-"

"He asked you not to tell," Harry filled in for them, nodding slowly.  He could hardly blame them for their loyalty- and in fact if Eggsy _was_ in any trouble, Harry found it difficult to believe that _he_ would be able to solve it.  But he _wanted_ to help.  "Do you know where he went?"

Jamal and Ryan looked at each other again.  "Yeah," they said in unison.

They directed Harry to a pub- the same one Eggsy had taken Harry to the day their deal was finalized.  Harry had assumed that the place's proximity to the police station had been the primary reason Eggsy had taken him there- but perhaps it was also his preferred location for such meetings. 

It looked much as Harry remembered, except that it was a fair bit busier that afternoon than it had been when they had breakfast there.  Eggsy sat at a table by the window, across from a man Harry didn't know- this Dean person, Harry assumed.  There were at least six other men, sitting at tables or standing near the bar, who Harry felt safe in further assuming were friends or colleagues of his.  

Harry didn't draw much attention when he walked into the pub and settled by the far corner of the bar, his eyes fixed to Eggsy all the while.  

"What can I get you?" the bartender asked.

Harry opened his mouth.  He didn't want anything, but he doubted he could remain where he was without ordering.  Before he could speak, Eggsy said, "Don't bother, Harry."  He stood.  "I'm done here."

His voice was quiet, but it carried through the pub- and for a second Dean and all his cronies were looking at Harry.  Then Dean's eyes snapped back to Eggsy.  "No, you ain't."  He reached out and gripped Eggsy's wrist.  "You're gonna answer for what you did, you little shit."    

Eggsy looked less than impressed by this show of aggression, but Harry stayed on his guard, getting into a fighting stance unthinkingly. 

"I didn't do anything, Dean," Eggsy said.  "Except what I promised to do."

"You promised it would fix things for me."

"And for a while it did."  Eggsy was smirking, but it was a smirk Harry had never seen on his face before- not teasing or lewd, but cold and cruel in a way that it had never been when he directed it at Harry.

"'For a while' wasn't part of our deal," Dean hissed.

"I think you better check the fine print again," Eggsy said, "because that's exactly how our deal worked.  You asked for something very specific and I gave it to you.  Ain't my fault if it all fell apart later."

That gave Harry pause, just a little.  It made him think about his own deal with Eggsy, made him wonder if he too had been tricked.  But no, Harry still trusted Eggsy's decisions and his motives- and yes, he knew that eventually Eggsy would move on to work with someone else and if, at that time, Harry eventually went bankrupt again it wouldn't be Eggsy's problem.  He was comfortable with that, if not with Eggsy leaving him; he had expected a chance to succeed and gotten one.  Perhaps Dean had expected something more.  

Eggsy glanced from Dean to Harry, broke Dean's grip easily, and headed towards Harry.  His smile turned gentle almost immediately.  

Unfortunately, Dean wasn't quite finished.  He stood too, looking Harry up and down with interest.  "You run the shop I found him working in, eh?"

"I do," Harry said.

"Well, if you need another rent boy once he's gone I can point you in the right direction."   

How angry that remark made Harry surprised him.  After all, he had known that Chester King thought something similar about his relationship with Eggsy, and it hadn't bothered him then.  Perhaps it was because Dean knew who and more importantly _what_ Eggsy was, which meant that- however similar his conclusions were to King's- they were by nature more accurate.  And Eggsy had said he wanted Harry, Eggsy had started what was between them now- and instigated every encounter since then- but Harry was still paying for it in a way, wasn't he?  He was paying for everything about Eggsy's presence in his life.  Eggsy would hardly be there otherwise.  

For a moment, Harry considered acting on that anger.  He hadn't attacked or harmed anyone since his escape from the people who had held him prisoner- but in that moment he was willing to make an exception for Dean.

But before Harry could make up his mind about what to do- let alone do anything- Eggsy was moving. 

Harry had never seen anyone go so fast in his life.  One second Eggsy and Dean were just standing there- and the next Dean was pinned to the wall with Eggsy's fingers around his throat.  Dean's friends remained frozen, rooted to the spot, staring at Eggsy.  Harry could hardly blame them.  Eggsy looked... different somehow.  As if he was only suspended in this human form, held together by hope and determination and not much else.  And his eyes... Harry had never seen a color like that.  He had seen those eyes glow yellow before, but never like this.  They were closer to _white_ , suddenly.  Looking at them was like looking into the sun. 

If Harry had been afraid to touch Eggsy that time with Charlie, he was doubly so now- but Harry crossed to Eggsy slowly and put a hand on his arm.  He was warm, as ever, but not hot to the touch.  Not dangerous, Harry was sure.  Not to Harry, anyway.  He said, "If you start something with these men, I'll have help you finish it.  And while I have no doubt you could get me out of jail again if necessary, I would really prefer not to go back."

Eggsy made a strangled noise that was almost, almost a laugh.  "You'd have to help, would you?"

"Honor would demand it."

Eggsy definitely laughed that time, but he didn't let Dean go.  "You heard what he said."

"And you have every right to take offense, but-"

"I mean about _you_."  Eggsy sounded much angrier than Harry had ever felt.  "As if you'd ever need to..." 

He didn't finish, and Harry wasn't sure he wanted him to- so he said, "My pride can handle it.  I don't need you to defend me."

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve it."  Eggsy said it softly, almost reverently.  Something about it made Harry feel... strange.  Like Eggsy had also meant a million other things with those words.  Whatever those other things were, though, they remained unsaid.  Instead, Eggsy addressed Dean, "I'm gonna let you go.  But if you or any of your goons ever come looking for me or show up at Kingsman again, you're gonna wish you'd never met me.  You're gonna wish you'd never been _born_.  We clear?" 

Dean's face was a remarkable shade of purple, but he managed to say, "Yes." 

Eggsy's lip curled, but he dropped Dean.  "C'mon, Harry," he said.  He swept out of the pub, and Harry followed him. 

None of the others tried to stop them, and Harry could practically feel them dismissing the unnatural show of speed and strength with every natural explanation they could think of.  It answered a question that Harry had barely even thought to ask- how exactly creatures like Eggsy could be in the world with most people utterly unaware of their existence. 

Harry caught up with Eggsy outside.  He looked stricken, at a loss in a way Harry had never seen before.  "Are you all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Eggsy said.  "I'm good, I just... I hate that guy."  Harry waited in silence for more, and Eggsy eventually added, "You figured he was... you know... a client of mine."

"Yes."

"Well, most of the people I work with, they're more like him than like you.  Dickheads who take everything they can get from this world and still expect more.  He had this rival... let's call him a businessman, right?  And he wanted him out of the picture so he could muscle in on his territory.  That's what I did for him.  It's how I met Jamal and Ryan, actually- they worked for the other guy.  Anyway, I guess being a bigger fish hasn't gone as well for Dean as he hoped."

"That's hardly your fault."

"You think?" Eggsy asked.  He bit his lip.  "I mean, you didn't worry that I was gonna shortchange you when you heard-"

"I can't say it didn't make me think for a moment.  But... you can tell me if I'm wrong again, but loopholes are rather your thing, aren't they?"

Eggsy nodded.

"So you used them to trick Dean and not me, yes?  From what I know of the man, I don't blame you- but I do wonder why you decided not to make things more difficult for me.  I'm sure you had your opportunities."

"I did," Eggsy admitted.  "It's just- like I said, you're different.  You just needed a break.  So I thought I'd give you one.  Thing is, Harry- I haven't..."  Eggsy shook his head suddenly.  "Haven't met met many people like you, I mean."  Harry got the sense that Eggsy had intended to say more, or something else entirely, but he didn't.  "You're a good a person, that's all.  You're the last person who should've ended up in that club."

"Well."  Harry took a breath.  "I'm not sorry."

Eggsy smiled at him, and he was still smiling a few blocks later- when the grey sky took it upon itself to pour rain down on them.  

"If it's not one thing it's another," Harry muttered.  He had carried an umbrella through London almost every day of he spent there- but he hadn't checked the weather today, and he had been worried about Eggsy, and he had forgotten to take one.  It was a cold day, just a breath from snow or so it seemed, and the storm was such a fitting culmination to a very strange day.  "I don't suppose you're going to do anything about this," Harry started to say, then he stopped.  He couldn’t tease Eggsy about whether he even had powers after all, not after the display with Dean.  Harry had been sure about what Eggsy was for some time, but things felt different somehow now that he had truly _seen_. 

But Eggsy laughed, probably at Harry's grumpy tone, and any residual fear of him faded.  "What am I gonna do?  Made an umbrella appear out of thin air?  C'mon- we're almost back to the shop."

He held out a hand. 

Harry rolled his eyes and took it, letting Eggsy tug him into a run- and they ran, fingers threaded together, all the way to the shop. 

Jamal and Ryan were waiting for them inside, and they were happy to see both Harry and Eggsy back in one piece.  "Well," Harry said as he stripped off his jacket.  "If you can handle things here, I'd like to take a hot shower."

Eggsy leered.  "Want company?"

"No, thank you," Harry said, not least because Jamal and Ryan were both waggling their eyebrows at him.  He was sorry for it a moment later.  "You can shower after me if you're chilled, of course-"

Eggsy held up a hand.  "I'll be _fine_ , Harry.  Look after yourself, all right?"

"I am not going to take ill because of a little rain like a regency heroine," Harry answered as regally as he could.

Eggsy laughed. and Harry knew all was forgiven.  

*   *   *

He regretted turning Eggsy down later, when he stood naked and alone with his thoughts under the stream of hot water.  Eggsy would at least have kept him from thinking; as it was, Harry couldn't seem to stop.  He had learned countless new things about Eggsy that day, and just as he had feared most of them made things worse, not better. 

Everything Eggsy said and did suggested that he genuinely liked Harry- but the fact remained that Harry had more in common with Dean than with Merlin and Jamal and Ryan.  The people Harry knew of that Eggsy had kept in his life were people he had met through the deals that he made, yes- but _not_ the people who had made those deals with him.  He would leave eventually, Harry had become more and more convinced of that ever since he had first let himself think it, and Harry... Harry didn't want him to go.  

After his shower, Harry decided take a nap.  He put on pajamas, curled up under the covers of his futon, and tried to sleep.  Instead, he kept thinking in miserable circles.

He heard footsteps outside and then inside his office, and then he felt a weight settle on the other side of the futon.  Eggsy.  "You're in a mood, aren't you?" Eggsy said.

"I'm cold," Harry replied.

Eggsy prodded his shoulder.  "You sure that's all there is to it?"

Harry considered his answer for a moment.  "I was worried."  That was part of the truth, at least.

"About me?"  When Harry made a noise of agreement, Eggsy said, "I left a note."

Harry- who had been turned toward the wall- rolled over to look at him.  "Where?"

Eggsy got off the futon and crossed to the desk.  Harry listened as some papers rustled in the dark, and then he heard Eggsy make an annoyed sound.  Eggsy bent and picked something up off the floor.  "Here," he said wryly. 

He crossed back to Harry and handed him a slip of paper.

The note said: _I gotta go take care of something, should be back by tonight.  Try not to miss me too much._ Eggsy had drawn a small winking face beside the message. 

Harry sighed.  The fondness in his chest _hurt_ in light of the thoughts that had been going through his head, but he knew he had to just deal with the pain.  He couldn't waste his time sulking about things he couldn't change.  "Well," he said.  "I suppose this _will_ teach me to miss you." 

Eggsy laughed softly and sat on the futon again, bending to give Harry a kiss.  "Want company?" he asked again, nuzzling Harry's forehead.

This time, Harry nodded. 

Eggsy stripped off his clothes and climbed under the covers next to Harry.  "Still cold?" he asked.

"A bit."

Eggsy fitted himself to Harry's back.  "I'll keep you warm."

With Eggsy pressed so close, Harry could hardly doubt it.  And he did feel so very good- and Harry's thoughts, for a while, were silent.  He dozed off in Eggsy's arms. 

When Harry woke again, he felt the press of Eggsy's cock against his arse.  Eggsy was rocking- though not with any real intent, and when Harry roused he stopped.  "Sorry," Eggsy said sleepily, as if he had only just awoken himself.  Probably he hadn't been aware of what he was doing- but he was clearly very much aware a moment later, when he said, "Harry- can I-" and rolled his hips in a very unambiguous way.  

Harry considered his answer.  On the one hand, he was a little aroused- he almost always was where Eggsy was concerned- but he wasn't sure he'd be able to get all the way there in his current mood.  On the other, Harry wanted to enjoy Eggsy for as long as he could have him.  Harry thought a lot of the things he had done over the last few weeks had been about that all along.  Why, for instance, had he not gone looking for a house as soon as they were doing well enough to allow for it? 

Perhaps because he knew, deep down, that the further he got from the state Eggsy had found him in, the less incentive Eggsy had to remain. 

Harry said, "Yes."

Eggsy smiled against the back of Harry's neck, and then he turned Harry's face so he could kiss him.   

They kissed for a while, and Harry did his best to stop thinking and savor it.  Eggsy broke the kiss only to pull Harry's shirt over his head, and then he rediscovered Harry's lips and kissed him some more, mapping out Harry's skin with palm and fingertips at the same time.  This was something they had never really done, and Harry wondered if it had been another subconscious decision on his part to be the one touching more than the one touched.  Perhaps he had been reluctant to lay himself bare for Eggsy, but he wasn't now.  He wanted Eggsy to touch his fill.

That didn't seem like it would be possible.  If Harry was calm- almost disconnected from himself- Eggsy was feverish, desperate.  He covered Harry with kisses and caresses, seeming to be everywhere at once.  Much of the time, Harry honestly couldn't tell exactly where Eggsy was or exactly what he was doing, except that once he had touched every bit of Harry's neck, back, chest and arms he stripped off Harry's bottoms to renew his attentions there.  Every line of muscle, every whisper of softness, every scar and imperfection- they were explored as if each was one glorious part of the most important territory on earth. 

Harry's disconnected feeling didn't last.  How could it have survived that onslaught?  Harry felt more than laid bare as Eggsy touched him, more than explored.  He felt known.  He felt _memorized_. 

And when Eggsy finally stopped touching him and spooned up against his back again, Harry realized this was the first time they had both been completely naked against each other. 

He gasped softly. 

Eggsy's breath was soft and warm, fanning out across Harry's hair and upper back.  He kissed Harry's neck and shifted, his cock sliding against the cleft of Harry's arse and then pushing in between his thighs.  

That time, Harry moaned.

Eggsy kissed his neck again.  "All right?" he asked quietly.  "It's okay if we just..." 

He worked his hips a little- and it was a tempting prospect, Harry had to admit.  But if he had been worried about being fully aroused earlier he wasn't worried anymore, and he wanted this.  He thought that maybe some other time they might-

And there he was, thinking about other times again, when he couldn't be sure he would get them.  When he didn't know what all this tenderness could possibly be if not a long goodbye-  

And if it was goodbye he wanted more, wanted everything he could get, so he said, "No- no, I want- I want you to."

Eggsy's face was pressed so close that Harry felt him nod- and then the weight and heat of him were both gone, but only for a few seconds before he was back again, and his hands were everywhere again, slick now and warm.  Eggsy didn't waste time, which Harry was grateful for.  He still felt a little strange, like he was wrapped in a cocoon.  It felt good, but unreal- as if his outsides might slough away at any moment and leave parts of him uncovered that he hadn't even known were in him before tonight.  "All right?" Eggsy asked, slippery fingertips pushing up between Harry's cheeks and playing against his hole.

"Yes," Harry said.  His voice was gravelly and muffled against the pillow.  He hardly recognized it. 

Harry hadn't been touched there by anyone apart from himself in a long time, and Eggsy's fingers felt so much more delicate than his.  Eggsy started out slow- almost too slow, or so it seemed to Harry.  He wasn't already prepared like Eggsy had been when Harry penetrated him, and this business of being treated like glass made him feel like a live wire. 

Eggsy kissed down his back gently as he went from a single finger to two.  He was making soothing noises, noises that suggested to Harry that he wasn't being entirely quiet himself. 

"Here," Eggsy said.  "Let me-"

He slid his fingers out of Harry, and Harry knew he moaned at the loss- but a second later he felt warm breath and then a flash of tongue flickering out over his hole.  "Oh," he said, a little stupidly. 

He felt Eggsy laugh _there_ , vibrating delicately over sensitive skin before Eggsy dove in completely, his tongue pushing inside Harry.  It was a wet, teasing sort of touch that made Harry ache- and the noises Eggsy was making... like this was the best place he had ever put his mouth...

Harry pushed back against Eggsy without thinking, wanting more. 

Eggsy wrapped his arms around Harry's hips and kept going, working his tongue in and out of Harry until he was overheated, until he was burning and splayed open and dripping with Eggsy's spit.  Then Eggsy lifted his head, pressed a kiss to the small of Harry's back, and pushed three fingers inside of him.  "All right?" Eggsy asked again. 

Harry pressed his face into the pillow.  He would have told Eggsy to stop asking him that if he had had the breath to- but the feeling of Eggsy's fingers twisting and thrusting, making space for him inside Harry, stole that breath entirely.  He finally managed a groan.

Eggsy laughed again, softly, fondly, and kissed his back once more.  "Yeah," he said.  "Okay.  Let me just get-"

Harry heard the noise of a condom wrapper and finally managed to speak.  "You don't have to."

" _Oh_ ," Eggsy said quietly.  "Yeah."  There was no teasing in his voice now, no casual acceptance of his due.  Harry stayed on his side as Eggsy pressed up against his back again, raining kisses all over his shoulders.  "Thank you," he said, like this was so much more than a chance to fuck Harry bare to him. 

And it was, because Harry trusted him now, wanted nothing between them now- but if Harry had known earlier that this was what he got for withholding things from him...

And then Eggsy's cockhead rubbed against Harry's hole, and all thoughts on the subject- on almost any subject- flew out of his head.

Eggsy eased in slow. Harry buried his face in the pillow again.  He was unused to the feeling of being spread wide like this, being filled. He felt Eggsy’s hand slide up his chest and throat to his jaw, turning his face toward him.  “Look at me,” he said quietly.  In the dim light streaming through the window, Harry saw an unbelievably sweet smile break across Eggsy's face when he did so.  "Oh yeah, that's it."  He slid all the way in.  “Look at me.”

Harry could hardly breathe for the pressure of Eggsy inside him.  If he had felt splayed open before, it was nothing to how he felt now- but Harry kept looking at Eggsy.  The expression on his face made it impossible to look away. 

For the first few moments, Eggsy stayed very still- then he started to rock his hips, gently at first, then with more intent.  That alone was almost enough to undo Harry entirely, and he wasn't sure how he would survive when Eggsy started to fuck him properly- but then Eggsy never did.  He just continued at that same tender pace.  The fullness, the weight of Eggsy at his back, the hot length of Eggsy's cock thrusting into him slow... it was overwhelming and yet not enough.  

Just when Harry was starting to think it would never be enough, just when he was starting to be afraid that he would scream if Eggsy didn't give him _more_ , Eggsy withdrew to the tip and shifted his hips- just a fraction- before sliding back in.

Harry saw stars.

"That's it," Eggsy murmured, pressing home again.  He took Harry's face in both hands and stared into his eyes- never speeding up but never pausing either.  "I love you," he whispered, looking almost startled.  At the same time, he hit just the right spot inside Harry. 

It was too much- the intense pleasure, the soft heat in Eggsy's eyes, the _words_ \- and Harry came so hard it hurt. 

He lay there, after- feeling as if he wasn't a person at all, just a collection of person-parts broken down to the most basic level- as Eggsy worked in him, slow and relentlessly gentle to the last- until he came as well. 

Eggsy was still for what seemed like an age, then he pulled out of Harry oh-so-carefully.  Harry still felt empty when Eggsy left him- and he almost missed that feeling when he started to feel other things too, like embarrassment.  Because he had come untouched and so quickly.  Because he had been so easy to take apart in the end.  Because he had heard Eggsy say those words and _believed_ them.  

Harry stared up at the ceiling in stunned silence.   

Eggsy got a cloth and started to clean Harry off with it.  He was still being as gentle as it was probably possible for him to be- but suddenly the gentleness stung more than roughness would have. 

Just when Harry had managed to convince himself that Eggsy had said it by accident and would do the decent thing and pretend that he hadn't, Eggsy said, "Thought it was polite to say it back."

The uncomfortable heat churning in Harry's belly turned white hot.  "I'm not in the mood for games."

Eggsy blinked rapidly.  "Hey," he said.  "I'm not-"

Harry tried to get up, but Eggsy wouldn't let him, suddenly straddling Harry's hips and staring down at him with wide, astonished eyes. 

"I love you," he said again, as somber and earnest as Harry had ever seen him.  He traced the line of Harry's cheek with faintly trembling fingers, and his tongue flickered out over his lips.  He smiled almost shyly.  "Do you-"

Harry's stomach twisted sharply and he moved, rolling them over so Eggsy's head hit the covers.  "No," he said. 

Eggsy's lips parted.  He looked hurt, _scared_.  "You don't-"

"I don't-" Harry cut himself off sharply.  Hadn't he thought- was it only minutes ago?- that he trusted Eggsy?  Apparently he didn't.  Not with this, anyway.  He had known that it could happen- but it wasn't until he heard Eggsy say the words that Harry realized it already had.  He loved Eggsy, and could not un-love him.  That would have been enough to contend with when romance had never been on the table between them for so many obvious reasons.  That Eggsy had also decided to mock him in this way only made it worse. 

A part of Harry protested immediately on the heels of that miserable thought.  Eggsy had been many things in the time Harry knew him- but never intentionally cruel. 

The rest of Harry simply couldn’t accept that.  If Eggsy wasn’t saying it to be cruel, why was he saying it at all?  It couldn’t possibly be _true_. 

Eggsy wasn’t staying here, wasn’t falling for Harry.  He was going to _leave_.  Perhaps if Harry had not already had those thoughts in his head when this happened, he would have reacted differently.  Perhaps not.  After all, how could anyone who looked at him, and then looked at Eggsy, doubt how this thing between them would- and _wouldn’t_ \- play out?  

"I don't believe you," Harry whispered.  He rolled off Eggsy. 

For a moment, Eggsy looked... relieved.  Harry would have guessed that he'd thought Harry was going to say _I don't love you_ , and it had distressed him- but no, that would be foolish, Eggsy must have already known the truth.  Harry must have been misreading him then, and might well have misread him always.  And then Eggsy started to look even more scared.  "Why not?"

Harry took a breath, putting as much distance between them as he could.  "I can't talk about this."

"Pretty sure we need to."  And Eggsy's jaw twitched, the way it always did when he wasn't budging on something.  

Just this afternoon Harry had dreaded Eggsy leaving without a word.  Now he wished he would.  "Fine," he said at last.  "But not _now_.  Later, all right?  Right now I need you to _go_."   

Though it looked like it was the last thing he wanted to do, Eggsy gathered his clothes and obeyed.

Harry lay back down for a moment- sticky, sore, and ashamed of himself.  When it became apparent that the earth would not do him the favor of rushing up and swallowing him whole, Harry got up and took another shower.  

*   *   *

If Harry had allowed himself to hope that Eggsy would take his time in returning- or neglect to return at all- he was mistaken.  After the cold and restless night he had asked for, Harry opened his eyes to find Eggsy standing there with a cup of coffee in his hand and a pleading look in his eyes. 

Eggsy pressed the cup into Harry's hands, jaw set with determination.  "I know I tease you a lot.  And I know I stretch the truth sometimes.  But I wouldn't lie about _that_."

All Harry could do was shrug.  There were only so many ways to say that he couldn't accept it.

"So what do I do to get you to believe me?" Eggsy asked. 

The whole situation was so absurd that Harry laughed out loud.  He sat on the edge of the futon, sipping his coffee, and said, "I don't know that there's anything you _can_ do."  Early the night before, he really had thought he trusted Eggsy- and after all the things he had learned about him since they met, it was true to a certain extent.  But this felt truer.  Some things were sorted out by getting to know each other a little better; other things were actually compounded by it.  The certainty that Eggsy could not love him (Christ, Harry had never even let himself _think_ about Eggsy loving him before last night, it was so ridiculous) was in the latter category.  "You're a demon.  You own my _soul_.”

“No,” Eggsy said sharply, grabbing onto that like a lifeline.  “I don’t own your soul.”

“Then who does?”

“You do, Harry.  'Cos I never took it.”

That surprised Harry.  He hesitated.  "Why not?"

Eggsy took a breath and pulled up a chair in front of Harry.  He threaded his fingers together and held Harry's eyes intensely.  "Look," he said.  "You know how I told you that I couldn’t just wave my hand like a genie?  Well, that was almost all bullshit."

Harry opened his mouth.

Eggsy reached out a hand and covered it gently.  "I mean, I can’t do _anything-_ it has to be something that the humans around you could rationally explain- though you’d be amazed by what humans can rationally explain away when it comes down to it.  But yeah, I coulda snapped my fingers, saved your shop, and been on my way.  But you were right about loopholes being my thing.  And I've found a big one.  See, I have a certain amount of power that I’m allowed to use at a given time, and anything further has to come out of my clients, out of their souls.  But sometimes with networking and a little gentle manipulation, you can change everything without using that power at all.  So your soul’s fine.”

“Why?” Harry asked around Eggsy's fingers. 

“Why you, or why at all?”

“At all.”

Eggsy dropped his hand, touching Harry's knee lightly.  Harry would have protested, except that it felt more like Eggsy grounding himself than like a push for anything more. 

“There was this... guy.  He had a wife and a kid and he just wanted a better life for them.  There was nothing bad at all in what he wanted, but... a year later he was dead, his wife was a mess and his kid was in so much trouble."  Eggsy shook his head to himself.  "See- when you sell your soul, whatever you buy with it gets messed up.  Poisoned.  It’s… you know… that monkey’s paw shit.  Doesn’t matter how good your intentions are, karma or whatever is gonna find a way to come back and fuck you over with whatever you wanted so much in the first place."

Harry realized something, or at least thought he did.  "That family you've been providing for- that's them, isn't it?"

Eggsy’s lips twitched into a wry smile.  “Merlin told you about that, huh?”

“It came up.”

“Well."  Eggsy's mouth twisted.  "Yeah.  Anyway, I spent a long time thinking after that, and I... I found another way, a way around it.  Valentine- that’s my boss, he runs the club- he thought it was funny the first time.”

“How many times have you done it?  Helped people without taking their souls?”

“Three.  You’re four, now, and I can’t do it very often or the big boss wouldn’t like it.  But every once in a while… when it's a good person like you and not a piece of shite like Dean, that seems to be okay.”

"You've got my best interests at heart," Harry murmured, remembering his words the day they met.

"I was gonna tell you that I hadn't really taken your soul yesterday," Eggsy said.  "After you asked why I wanted to help you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

Eggsy's grip on the leg of Harry's pajamas tightened.  “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“That if you knew I wasn’t sticking around as part of our deal you might not want me to stay.”

Harry stared at him.  He couldn't help it.  "That's silly."

"Well.”  Eggsy shrugged.  “I just... I wanted a little more time.  To be sure you cared about me like I cared about you.  Or at least that you could someday."  He leaned closer to Harry, as close as his chair would accommodate.  "Harry, please let me-”

“Eggsy."  Harry wanted to touch Eggsy, wanted to trust him.  Again.  At last.  But there were reasons he couldn't, reasons he kept letting himself dismiss.  He couldn't do that this time.  He had to fight.  "I know you’ve… kept things from me.  Big things.  I know I haven’t always been in my right mind, that I’ve forgotten things-”

Eggsy looked confused, and then the confusion cleared.  "You mean the club."  His eyes widened.  "And you'd had blackouts before, after those people messed with your head.  _Fuck_.  I shoulda realized how much it would bother you, I shoulda-”

It was Harry's turn to cover Eggsy's mouth.  "Just- just help me understand, all right?"

Eggsy nodded and kissed Harry's fingertips.  Harry jerked his hand away and let him speak.  "It's not like you think, Harry.  Nobody controlled or manipulated you, not really.  I _promise_.  It’s just the club.  People- humans- can’t keep it in their minds.  They don’t want to.  Sometimes they never even remember that they were there at all.  If I could bring back your memories of that night I would, I just can’t."  Harry was about to let himself accept when Eggsy added, "But… I could show you mine, if that would help.”

Harry stared at him for a moment, and finally- slowly- nodded.  “Yes.”

Eggsy gave a tiny, shy smile.  “Okay.”  He took a breath.  He raised his hands, putting his fingertips on Harry’s temples.  “Just so you know, this is gonna be me putting thoughts directly into your head.”

“I just asked you to,” Harry said, laughing a little. 

“I know, I just… I wanna make sure you’re ready.  Your brain isn’t gonna like it.  It's gonna go all horror movie evil-is-real on you, that’s why we’re not supposed to do it.  The way you felt at the club- the headache, the smell, all that stuff- it’s the result of the very minor suggestion that if you have problems you could sell your soul there and fix it.  That’s like… a dripping tap.  This is gonna be a cold shower, okay?”

“Yes,” Harry said again.

Eggsy was right, and wrong, at the same time.  His eyes glowed, and the touch of his fingers was suddenly burning hot, and it in that moment all Harry felt was immediate, gibbering horror. 

Harry’s blood was like ice water and liquid fire at once.  His organs might as well have turned to stone.   His heart, his head, and his very real and still functioning soul all seemed like they were clawing and tearing at the cage of his body, willing to do whatever it took to get away from the touch of Eggsy’s mind. 

 _Eggsy’s_ mind...

And then came the part where Eggsy was wrong, because suddenly Harry calmed and he didn’t… feel _good_ , exactly- but he felt all right.  Safe.  Because no matter how many times he had tried to tell himself different he knew Eggsy, and Eggsy would never hurt him.  This was right where Eggsy belonged. 

 _Oh_ , came a thought in Harry’s mind that wasn’t his own.  You _do..._   It sang through his mind, an uncomplicated, not-quite-human joy Harry had never experienced before.  _You do, you do, you do._   

For a moment, that was it- and then there was Eggsy reminding himself not to get distracted.  There was Eggsy looking back on the night at the club.  And then-

Harry was back there himself, and he was looking through Eggsy’s eyes. 

In most particulars, the club looked just as Harry remembered it.  There was the bar, the tables, the people dancing and talking- but the wrongness was gone.  The smell of sulfur, the heat, the prickly _this is a bad place I can’t stay here_ feeling… it wasn’t that Eggsy couldn’t detect them, they just didn’t bother him.  To him, it was normal.  Even… nice. 

All the same, Eggsy wasn’t having a very good night.  A guy at one of the tables had gotten it into his head that Eggsy was a rent boy- a notion which wouldn’t have bothered Eggsy at all if the guy in question hadn’t also decided that he a) wanted what Eggsy was selling and b) wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“Think you’re too good for me, you little shit?” the guy was saying.  “I’ll show you-”

And Eggsy was actually hoping that the guy _would_ show him.  The guy was reaching out a hand, and Eggsy was ready.  It would be the easiest thing in the world, to give him a third degree burn and teach him not to make sleazy assumptions about people. 

But then, just before the guy connected, fingers closed around his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I think you should leave the young man alone,” a voice said- all perfect, clean vowels and crisp intonation.  The voice was cold, sharp- but also deep, and Eggsy just knew how warm and gorgeous it could be when someone was making it- _him_ \- happy instead of angry.  Not that angry might not be a good thing too under certain circumstances- this was a _bend over the desk and spread your legs_ kind of voice if Eggsy had ever heard one.

It took Harry a second realize that the voice Eggsy was currently having a love affair with was his own.  When he spoke, it sounded unfamiliar to his own ears.  And the fingers wrapped around the guy’s wrist… they looked longer, and his hand looked bigger, than he had ever thought it was.

The guy spun around, spluttering, “What the fuck?”

He looked at Harry, standing there, and Eggsy looked too- and concluded that voice’s owner was as hot as the voice.  Hotter, in fact.  To Eggsy’s eyes, Harry's shoulders were ridiculously broad, his legs were ridiculously long, and the _don’t fuck with me_ look on his face was ridiculously attractive. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” the guy said. 

Harry watched himself- was that _really_ supposed to be him?- take a step toward the guy.  “Push your luck and you’ll find out.” 

How much larger than his prospective opponent he was became more apparent the closer he got, and the guy swallowed heavily.  Eggsy realized that it wouldn’t take much more for him to back down.  He touched the guy's sleeve, and put just a breath of demonic will into his voice: “Yeah, get outta here, mate.”

The wrongness of his influence added just enough blind fear to the situation that the guy obeyed immediately.  He turned tail and ran. 

Eggsy grinned and looked back at Harry-who-he-didn’t-know-was-Harry-yet.  “I’m Eggsy, by the way.  And I didn’t need your help,” he added, teasing more than anything.  He didn’t want to scare not-yet-Harry off- but he didn’t want Harry thinking he was some damsel in distress either.  Not at all.

“I’m Harry.”  And Eggsy only had a second to savor the name and how perfect it was before he added, “And just because you didn’t need help doesn’t mean you didn’t deserve it.”

The earnestness in his voice set Eggsy off-balance.  Standard flirting he would have been able to cope with, but this?  Demons set off age old alarm bells in human’s brains; people being nice for no reason set off alarm bells in Eggsy’s.  “I’m not… that, you know,” he said, thinking Harry might have decided he’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar.  “A rent boy.”  A part of Eggsy thought it wouldn't be so bad if Harry did think that- he’d make a bit of cash on the side and almost certainly have a good time doing it. 

It was what Harry said next that really made everything weird.  “His behavior wouldn’t have been any less abominable if you were.”

Eggsy just stared for a second, and while he was staring Harry stumbled a little.  Eggsy caught him by the arm.  “You okay?”

“I have to tell you, Eggsy,” Harry said.  “I’m glad our friend didn’t take me up on it after all.  I’m more than a little drunk.”

Eggsy laughed breathlessly.  He felt strange, like he was drunk too- and he couldn't even _get_ drunk.  “C’mon, let’s sit you down.”  He guided Harry to an empty booth and knelt in front of him.  He caught the attention of a waiter.  “Get me some water over here, would you?” He turned back to Harry.  “What’re you doing in a place like this anyway?”

“I’m in trouble,” Harry said quietly.

Even privy to all of Eggsy’s thoughts, Harry couldn’t keep track of everything that went through his head in that moment.  What Harry must have been in the club to do, what he must have already been halfway to doing if Gazelle- the bartender, the bartender called herself Gazelle- had been working on him.  Being on his knees in front of Harry was also giving him ideas, but they had been shoved so far to the side that they hardly even registered.  He thought Harry was sweet; he was worried about him.  He was worried about what would happen if Harry did what he was thinking about doing.  "What kinda trouble?" he asked.

"My shop is failing."

Eggsy rubbed Harry's knee, already planning to get Harry out of the club before he could do anything he would regret.  "What do you do?"

"I'm a tailor."

Eggsy smiled.  "Really?"  He meant it as a joke.  _Shoulda figured, from that perfect suit._   

"There's no substitute for a good suit." 

Eggsy realized he must have said that last part out loud.  Before he could think of anything else to say, someone said, “There you are.  You wandered off.”  That was Gazelle.  She was standing close to the booth, the strobing lights from the dance floor shining off her legs.  And at her side-

Charlie. 

Contempt was heavy in Eggsy's thoughts as he looked at Charlie, and so was something else: anger.  Defensive anger.  Not on his own behalf, but Harry’s.  Gazelle had met Harry, listened to his troubles, got him to say the words, and gone to get someone to make a deal with him- and she’d gotten Charlie.  More of the club’s 'employees' were like Eggsy than like Charlie- posh, stuck up, well-dressed Charlie- and Gazelle had picked him because he was the one she thought Harry would respond to, the one Harry would like and trust and let into his life.  And Eggsy, having known Harry for all of a minute, was angry that she had misjudged him so thoroughly.    

“Clear off, Charlie,” Eggsy said without looking at him again. 

“Wait a second,” Charlie said, “he’s _my_ -”

“ _No_.”  Since he was looking through Eggsy’s eyes, Harry couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t need to.  He could feel it- feel that what was happening in that moment was what happened inside Eggsy when his eyes went white-hot with rage like they had with Dean.  This was a pure, unholy fury that scared even other demons a little, and made humans run all the way to church.  “He’s _mine_.”        

“Here now,” Charlie said.  “I have a quota.”

Eggsy looked up at Harry, and Harry just knew his eyes were still glowing with unearthly light.  Harry- the Harry who was there with Eggsy in his memory- was staring off into the distance, as Harry knew he often did when he was too drunk to completely understand what was going on around him, but still desperately trying to look sober.  Eggsy took his hands.  “You want it to be me, don’t you?  You pick _me_ , right?  Not him.”

Harry met Eggsy’s eyes, and again he didn’t need to be able to see Eggsy- not to know what he must have seen in that moment.  A gorgeous boy with parted lips and yellow eyes that were somehow sweet, somehow beautiful.  Of course he said, “Yes.”

“Say it’s me.  I can get you out of the trouble you're in, okay?  Just say you want it to be me.”

“I want you,” Harry said. 

And Eggsy smiled.  Harry misspoke, a little, but that was okay.  Actually, that was perfect.  Eggsy set his jaw and threw a vindicated look in Charlie’s direction, but already he was moves and moves ahead, thinking about how he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to Harry.  How Charlie was an idiot, and Eggsy could do whatever he would have done with networking and a bit of elbow grease.  He wouldn’t need Harry’s soul to make everything all right for him.  And while he was at it, he’d get this gorgeous, too-nice man to say he wanted him again, and mean it in the right way- in the best way- before he was through.  Those were the words Harry had given him, and those were the ones he’d keep.            

“We’ll see about that,” Charlie said.  He was dialing his phone. 

“What are you doing?”  Gazelle sounded annoyed.

“Calling the police on behalf of that poor fellow.”  He gestured toward the man Harry had menaced earlier.  He was on the far end of the club, wringing his hands and drinking heavily. 

“Nothing happened!” Eggsy protested, getting angry again.

“And I’ll help them figure that out in the morning,” Charlie said.  “We’ll see who he likes best after I get him out of police custody.”  Charlie turned on his heel and left, talking furiously on his phone.

“Not if I get to him first,” Eggsy muttered. 

Gazelle sighed.  “What is it with you and Charlie?”

Harry rocked a little, close to tipping over.  Eggsy caught him easily, sitting down in the booth next to him and letting Harry's head rest on his hip.  "Charlie's a prick, that's all," Eggsy said, playing with Harry's hair and thinking how soft it was.  "I’m not gonna let him have this one.”

Gazelle sighed again.

Harry understood, now, why Charlie had been following Eggsy, why he had been at the casino.  Poaching clients was indeed frowned upon, and Charlie hadn’t tried it because he just hated Eggsy so much- he had tried it because Eggsy had been the one to poach Harry in the first place.  And though Harry suspected that his agreement drunk was worth as much as his agreement sober to a demon, he hadn’t said the right words to Eggsy, hadn’t offered to sell his soul, not to him.  That made the agreement improperly binding- which was exactly how Eggsy had actually wanted it, as it turned out. 

The memory melted away as Eggsy’s hands slipped from Harry’s forehead.  Harry knew he must have fallen asleep with his head in Eggsy’s lap, and that once the police arrived he might have woken up, but he wouldn’t have been truly lucid.  He wouldn’t have really come back to himself until he woke up in that holding cell with no idea how he got there.

It took Harry a moment to orient himself enough to speak.  “How did you get me out?”

"Not too long ago, I made a deal with a guy pretty high up on the police food chain," Eggsy said.  “I convinced him the charges were bullshit, got you out before Charlie could even show up.”  Eggsy laughed quietly.  “He thought he’d let you stew for a bit longer.  Stupid.”

“Indeed,” Harry agreed.        

Eggsy shot him a hopeful smile.  "So it's not so bad, right?  I didn't play with your head, or anything.  I mean, sure, I wanted you- but it’s not like nobody ever wanted _that_ before, right?  My intentions weren’t a hundred percent pure, but I really was just trying to help because you deserved it.  If I'd ever thought for a second that the reason you was holding back was because you weren't actually attracted to me, I woulda laid off."

Harry nodded, slowly, as he believed that.  Eggsy really would have- but he hadn't, because Harry _had_ been attracted to him, very much so.  And after Harry had finally said the magic words, finally had sex with Eggsy, Eggsy had already kept his end of the deal, already gotten Harry’s head back above water.  He could have left- would have left if he hadn’t wanted _more_.  "And you didn't stay just to avoid going... going back _home_?"

Eggsy laughed softly.  "I won't pretend I don't do a lot to avoid that, but I can stay up here as long as I contract with the club.  And even the good jobs are just jobs.  Except... except this time it wasn't.  I don’t think it ever was, not from the very beginning."  Eggsy's mouth twisted.  "I did... go there for you, in case you forgot." 

"Oh," was all Harry could really manage.

Eggsy leaned closer to Harry.  “So... are we okay now?”

His hand had dropped back to Harry’s knee, and Harry put his own hand over it.  "We're… better."

It was still a little hard for Harry to believe that Eggsy was in love with him- but it was not as hard as it had been, not now that Harry knew how profoundly he had affected Eggsy from the first. 

"But... I still have my doubts.  Perhaps because I know so little about you."

Harry half expected Eggsy to protest.  Just as Harry understood Eggsy better now that he had seen some of his thoughts, Eggsy had seen some of Harry's too.  Enough to know as well as Harry did how he really felt.  Harry thought that if Eggsy touched him, kissed him, said _you trust me, you love me, you want me here I know you do_ he would break.

But Eggsy didn’t. 

He just said, "There's really not a whole lot to know.  I've always just... gone from job to job.  Tried to even out the score for people who deserve it.  But Harry, there's time learn all there is.  You just have to wanna take that time.  And believe that I do too." 

Harry knew Eggsy wasn't wrong about that.  He knew less about Eggsy than he would have normally tried to know about someone he had had sex with so many times and lived in such close quarters with for so long- but Eggsy wasn't exactly a normal someone.  And even normal someones in normal relationships didn't start out knowing everything about each other.  They learned in time, because they wanted to, because they had chosen to build a life together.  Eggsy was right; it was a question of whether Harry wanted to make that choice, whether Harry was willing to accept that Eggsy did too.

But did he want that?  Did he accept?  Harry wasn't sure.  The trip into Eggsy's memory had helped a great deal, but the feelings he'd had last night weren't gone- not the love, but also not the fear and anger and distrust either.  They were just buried under the landslide of new information. 

Eggsy squeezed Harry's hand gently.  "What do you say?"

Harry looked up and met Eggsy's hopeful gaze.  "I need time, Eggsy."  He swallowed heavily.  "Time _alone_ , to think about this."

Eggsy's face contorted.  "Yeah," he said softly.  He sounded devastated.  "Yeah, okay."  He leaned close to Harry and kissed his cheek, the touch of his lips hot and fleeting.  "Okay." 

He nuzzled Harry quickly, and was gone before Harry could say another word.

*   *   *

Harry was glad that Eggsy had given him the time he asked for, he really was. 

He was glad for the opportunity to wrestle with his feelings in peace.  They were... complicated, to say the least, and he needed time to work through them.  He needed time to work through a lot of things. 

He saw a doctor who told him that he was healthier than a man of his age and history had any right to be.  He went house hunting and found a place that he liked.  By that time, the holiday season was in full swing and business was booming.  He didn't know if Merlin, Jamal and Ryan knew what had passed between him and Eggsy, or if they saw much of him, but if they did they never mentioned it.  He went out to lunch with Roxy or for drinks with her uncles now and then.  They teased him, said he was pining, and Harry ignored it as best he could. 

But he was.  Once he _had_ worked through his feelings, Harry missed Eggsy.  Frankly, he had missed Eggsy before he had even begun.  Eggsy had kept his promise.  He had saved Harry's business- saved his _life_ \- but everything Harry had wanted when he walked into that club was no longer everything to him.  But that aside, pining aside, he wasn't miserable.  He had his health, his friends, his business- as much as he missed Eggsy, Harry knew he didn't need Eggsy to be happy. 

He _wanted_ him, though. 

That was what made it so hard to convince himself that one day the little life he had asked for in the beginning would be enough for him now.  If losing Eggsy had been more like quitting smoking, Harry would have had an easier time telling himself that making this separation permanent would be for the best.  Harry wasn't going through some kind of withdrawal; he was all right, he just knew he would be _more_ than all right if he could have Eggsy.   

So.  He loved Eggsy.  He wanted to try, wanted to trust, wanted to see if they had a future. 

That was the other hard part, because Harry hadn't seen Eggsy since he asked him to leave.  He wanted to be grateful for that- and for the most part he was- but deep down he was also afraid.  He was afraid that wherever Eggsy was at the moment, whatever he was doing, he had realized what a fool he had been to ever think he could have feelings for such a broken, boring old man.  

He was afraid that he would never see Eggsy again. 

Harry was still resigning himself to that when he arrived at the shop one morning, regarded the small Christmas tree Jamal and Ryan had put up for a minute or two, and opened his ledger- and a note fluttered to the floor.  Harry frowned, bent, and picked it up. 

In Eggsy’s spidery, slapdash handwriting it said, _I know I said I would give you time, and I will.  I just wanted to ask if it's been long enough yet._ There was a long enough space between sentences to make Harry think the third was an unplanned addition: _Because I'd really like to come home._

Harry couldn't quite believe what he was seeing.  He turned the paper over in his hands.  When he had watched it fall, he could have sworn there was only writing on one side, but now he could see words on the back as well.

An address.  

When Jamal and Ryan arrived, Harry asked if they could handle the shop alone for a few hours.  They exchanged a look and said, "Of course."

The address led Harry to a flat in a middle of the road part of the city- not too disreputable, not too nice.  Harry wasn't entirely sure what to make of it, and he hesitated briefly before he knocked on the door.  

It opened a moment later, and Harry saw Eggsy on the other side.  He looked drawn, but he smiled.  "Hey, Harry."

"Eggsy," Harry managed.  He couldn't help drinking in the sight of him.  Drawn or not Eggsy looked as beautiful as ever, and a tiny, cruel part of Harry was actually relieved to see that he had been suffering.  The rest of Harry wanted to alleviate that suffering immediately- but he suddenly couldn't find the words.  Instead, he heard himself say, “I didn’t even know you had a flat.”  He supposed it made sense that Eggsy did; that would be the best way to avoid going back to where he came from. 

“Yeah,” Eggsy said.  “I figured that was kinda part of your point.”

Harry understood that this was Eggsy trying to let him in.  So- “Are you going to let me in?”

Eggsy laughed softly and stepped aside.  "Yeah, okay."

The one room flat was sparsely decorated.  It seemed like the sort of place Eggsy would have, with the sort of furniture Eggsy would like, but it didn't feel like a _home_.  Which, Harry supposed, had been part of _Eggsy's_ point.  The only things Harry could immediately identify as Eggsy's were the clothes in the open closet, the suit Harry had made for him given pride of place.  And anyway, it didn't look like it would take much effort for them to move his things to wherever Harry was- if that was indeed how Eggsy wanted it.  "I'm in the process of buying a house," Harry said slowly.  "I'd like to know what you think of it."

Eggsy kept his distance, but his face lit up.  "That mean I can come back?"

"If you would promise me one thing, yes."  Harry took a breath.  He had planned this out early on, and he had to say the words before he lost his nerve.  "I need you to be honest with me now- as best you can.  I know there will be things I won't be able to understand, but... I need the truth from you.  Even if it's just to say you can't say."

Eggsy nodded jerkily.  "You got it, Harry."

Harry crossed to Eggsy and touched his cheek with light fingers.  “I do love you,” he said.  After securing a promise like that- and after making Eggsy wait so long- he had to say it, even if Eggsy must have known that he did by then.

Eggsy’s eyes twinkled.  “Sounds serious.” 

Harry gave him a tap on the chin.  “I thought it was polite to say it back.”

Eggsy laughed so easily, let old hurts go so easily.  “I love you.  Can I stay with you?”

“ _Can_ you stay with me?” Harry asked.  Everything had gone very well thus far- but Harry hadn't been able to plan this part out.  These were questions he didn't have the answers to.  He knew that Eggsy had been with him almost constantly since their initial negotiations, but he had always assumed that once Eggsy's work was done- which it was- he would have to take another job or return to hell eventually. 

And Harry accepted that most people who chose to sell their souls deserved to pay for it, but could he really bear to send Eggsy off to work every morning to trade in such currency?  All love aside, could he really imagine Eggsy coming home to him every night at all? 

The moment he thought that, Harry remembered the night he had awoken to find Eggsy asleep with his head at his feet.  He remembered how many nights Eggsy had spent in the shop since then.  He remembered Eggsy calling _it_ \- not the place where he came from, not the club, not this flat, but Harry's shop, and _Harry_ \- home just now.  Eggsy had been playing for keeps for some time, hadn't he?  If Harry was going to trust him, he had to trust that. 

Eggsy smiled- a pleased, relieved little thing, as if he had been waiting for exactly that question from the moment Harry arrived.  He nodded rapidly.  “If we- uh- reopened negotiations, we could work something out.”

“You mean if I wanted to trade my soul for... for you?” 

Harry felt wariness creeping up in him again, but it hardly had time to settle in before Eggsy cut off those thoughts with a sharp, "No."  He gripped Harry's lapels.  “ _No_.”

“Then what?” Harry asked, something plaintive in his tone that he wasn’t proud of, but God- or Lucifer or whoever had presided over this whole business- knew he wanted to have Eggsy.  He wanted to have Eggsy’s _love_.  He wanted them to have a life together. 

“Maybe you got something else I'd wanna trade you for, yeah?”

“What sort of something?" Harry asked.

Eggsy pressed just faintly closer.  "I want a suit, Harry.”

“I already made you one.”  Harry pointed to it.  He felt like his heart was in a vice.  He couldn’t decide if it was a good feeling or a bad one.

“Well, I want another one."  Eggsy smoothed his hands up Harry's shirtfront.  "There’s no substitute for a good suit, right?  And this one’s gotta be the best, so it’ll probably take you a while.”

“The best," Harry repeated. 

“Yeah,” Eggsy said with conviction.  “And if it’s not good enough you might even have to make another, because I’m gonna pay you a _lot_.”

“What are you going to pay me?”

“I’m gonna pay you _me_.  I’m gonna stick around and work in your shop and just be with you for as long as you want me to.  Hopefully forever.”

All Harry could do for a moment was stare at Eggsy's earnest face.  Finally he managed: “And you’re allowed to make this kind of bargain, are you?”

“Your soul is your main currency.  My presence is mine.  I'm not even allowed to work with more than one person at a time.  Doesn’t really matter what Valentine or even the big boss thinks about it- as long as I’m not spending more power than I naturally have, it’s nothing to do with them.  I just made a bad deal.  That happens sometimes.”

Harry closed what remained of the distance between them and rested his forehead against Eggsy's.  This might, he thought, actually work.  He wasn’t sure how long it would to take him to make the best suit in the world, especially when it would have to be the most neglected of side projects, but he supposed a lifetime might turn out to be just long enough.  

“And when ‘hopefully forever’ is over?” he asked.

“We’ll renegotiate,” Eggsy said. 

Harry barked out a laugh.  He wasn't sure exactly what that would entail- but he knew now that Eggsy wouldn't let him go easily, even to the very end. 

"We got a deal?” Eggsy asked softly. 

Harry closed his eyes.  "Yes," he whispered.  "I believe we do.”  Eggsy sealed it with a kiss, grinning against Harry's mouth.  Harry kissed him back with energy, lifting his hands to card his fingers through Eggsy's soft hair. 

Finally Eggsy drew back and said, "So.  Should we head back to the shop now?"

"I believe so," Harry replied.  "We have a lot of work to do.  Although- perhaps I should ask if you have... difficulties.  With the holiday."

Eggsy shoved Harry's shoulder lightly.  "Are you kidding?  Christmas is the best.  All that commercialism, it's-"

Harry gave him another kiss to quiet him.  Against his lips, Eggsy's grin was unnaturally wide- but that didn't bother Harry in the slightest.  It felt- if anything- like _home_. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on [tumblr](http://potentiality-26.tumblr.com/).


End file.
